The Observer
by TinyBabyWoman
Summary: Some days, I just wanted to punch that cigarette right out of his stuck-up, European mouth. Some nights, I lie in bed, feeling my heart race when I recall him towering over me, that self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face. "Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded fiercely. He sneered, "I do not know. I barely know myself anymore, thanks to you." fem!Sniper x Spy
1. Chapter 1

**Oh, hai guys! This will be my first FF attempted in yeaaars, so please bear with me. I don't know where my old account went. Hmm. BUT- now I'm here, and I bring forth this story to you, the beautiful men and women of FanFiction. I feed off reviews, so drop me a lil' somethin' if you think this is worth continuing. Rated Mature for alcohol usage, swearing, violence, and -yes- some very sexy sexiness later on. Deal with it. I don't own these characters except for my OC, Valve does! I'm a broke college student and I don't own a damn thing. Thanks guys. Enjoy :3**

**EDITED:: This chapter has been updated, I've corrected a few errors and rearranged a few things that may not have previously made sense.  
**

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It was hot. Really, _really_ hot. I sat on a plastic airport bench, hundreds of people passing all around me, creating a busy hum that seemed to squeeze my head when coupled with the heat. I was no longer nervous, that's for sure. I didn't have the luxury to sit & worry. I could only imagine the different methods in which I was going to cool down as soon as I was dropped off. I could only hope this wasn't the heat I'd have to be working in. There has to be something morally wrong with making employees work in this shit, completely cruel. Then again, I didn't have much of a choice. Beggars can't be choosers.

To be honest, I didn't really know exactly what I was supposed to be expecting here. I was simply told by a somewhat nervous-sounding woman that one of the agents from the company bearing the name "Reliable Excavative Demolition", who employed me, would be here to pick me up, at some point in the afternoon, and I have been baking for about an hour in the merciless sunlight. My panama was most likely leaving an unsightly tan-line across my face, and every bit of me was coated in sweat.

Yet, I somehow still managed to tell myself, "I've felt worse conditions." Whether that was true or not is questionable at this point.

I had a brand-spanking-new pair of aviators on that I picked up in Spain before my departure. They did not make me look Spanish. They _did_ however permit me to watch those around me without their being aware. Call it nosy or creepy, but it satisfied me, recognizing the movement and tendencies of my surroundings. It's a habit by now, and I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or not.

People are curious. I catch the most unexpected things and various opportune moments which do not pertain to me in the slightest manner. It's a good thing to possess those mannerisms as a sniper, right? You have to recognize any slight inconsistencies in order to survive, taking note of off-behavior or lingering stares.

I pulled my panama off my head and fanned my face with it, pulling my braid over my shoulder to give my back a little more air through my sweat-soaked shirt. Cursing myself for not changing out of my boots beforehand, I shifted uncomfortably, the plastic seat squealing briefly. Fucking airports and their cheap hospitality. The dumpster behind me wreaked of spoiled food and moldy cardboard. My fingers tugged absently at a few uneven strands of hair pulled behind my ear. They required I provide a lock of hair when I was going through the application process. There was no interview, no requirement to speak to the person in charge, nothing. It was curious to an extent.

I suddenly noticed a rumbling, rather large van approaching the pick-up lane in front of me. "RED" adorned the side of the vehicle, spelled in cursive hand, a little bomb embellishing the background. I casually glanced at it through the shield of my shades and observed the stocky man in goggles that occupied the driver's seat. He searched back and forth along the port, eyes as concealed as mine, and I considered it for a moment before standing.

He did not seem to notice me or anyone else in particular, so I walked towards the passenger side reluctantly. He then turned his head to me, and a hearty smile stretched across his face.

"You the lil' lady we're picking up for the new position?" His accent was southern & strong.

I tried to respond as warmly. "I believe so! Are you the agent from the company I was informed of?"

He patted the seat next to him. "I believe we have a match sweetheart, hop in & I'll take ya to the base."

The drive was about an hour straight from the airport, and the environment became more arid & bright as we traveled uphill for the most part. It wasn't that bad at all, really. I had a good chat with Engineer, the man who had picked me up. He explained the company requires you to go by your class-name only, for privacy purposes provided in our contracts. He built the turrets as defense against the opposing team, so therefore, he is Engineer.

"Yir a Sniper, right?", he asked matter-of-factly. "You'll be supportin' both offense & defense along with Medic and the spook, so you'll be recognized by that title."

I glanced at him briefly when he mentioned the "title"s of two teammate. This whole job description was already much more versatile than I had originally perceived. I was told I would be accompanied by eight other teammates, all male, in a large base loaded with weaponry and medical aid, practical needs and private bedrooms which were provided by a private manufacturer name Mann Co.,. The words guerillas, or mercenaries, or whatever it was I would be fighting with, were never mentioned by the nice lady on the phone. It didn't sound that bad when described to me by an anonymous man in Spain though.

He had heard what had happened to me months ago, insisting I work for this company if I didn't want my identity compromised and my talents to go to waste. I was so desperate, I would have accepted anything thrown at me at that point. My motivation was crushed and I was considered a huge threat to the public, threatening to stop my infant career and my personal life to a screeching halt. I was one of the best snipers I knew, but I was broken, and I took this job in hopes of being fixed. One reckless shot landed me on the road to nowhere. A story for another day.

The ride was pleasant though, and I found myself almost completely comfortable with Engineer, whom I had just met. Perhaps it was his accent, or that happy-go-lucky look that seemed so natural on his features. I was, however, not going to complain. I've worked with the lowest of the low, in the world's underbelly, and I didn't miss it a bit.

Engineer whistled loudly to the country station he had chosen over the roar of the wind. I found music like this twangy, and usually a little too depressing for my tastes, but I smiled lightly, gazing into the desert-like scenery, tension rolling off me in waves. It had been a while since I had gotten to enjoy riding in the passenger side of a moving vehicle. I 'd done a lot of walking for the past two years. And when the circumstances required it, some brisk running as well.

After what I guessed be around three or four songs, I turned to the man, speaking up. "So, what should I be expecting here?"

Not the most professional of attitudes, but I had a feeling he didn't mind a bit.

"Welp." He put one hand to his chin thoughtfully. "As far as _yir_ position goes, I don't know the specifics, bein' I'm not a sharp-shooting kinda guy. You won't be doin' as much runnin' as the boys, but yir still an important player. We depend on you to watch our backs when possible."

I lowered my eyebrows. "I'm missing something here. We're in a warzone of some sort I assume?"

"You could say that. None of us really know what the purpose of this whole scheduled warfare thing is, besides to test out weaponry, but the pay is great and the respawn system is perdy fascinatin'!"

My eyebrows raised again. "We have a _respawn_?"

I have heard of such things on my travels and in my work, but had never seen one of these contraptions in person. A machine built to recognize the stamina and heart levels of a soldier, and teleport him back to safety. This was going to be an interesting experience.

"Yep! But don't go too confidant in it, all machinery has the potential ta' malfunction. We've seen it happen a couple a' times." His expression fell just the smallest bit.

I observed the side of his face and nodded silently, taking my eyes off him to focus on the dusty road instead. It seemed as though I had touched on something sensitive and so I kept my mouth shut for the remainder of the ride.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally noticed the small silhouette of what appeared to be a small town or some other organized structure perched among a few rocky hills. I pointed forward, not meaning to sound as excited as I did. "Is that it?"

"Sure is! Welcome to yir new home little lady!"

I popped my head out the window and lifted my aviators up. It was secluded in the midst of a ridge boulder-laden plains, the sunlight beaming directly above, massive and orange, swimming in heat waves. I loved the sight of it so far, anyway. It'd be nice to get away from the miserable existence of walking through traffic.

As it drew closer, I pulled my luggage from the back and held it between my legs, tapping on the door quietly, but nervously.

"The boys'll be in the cafeteria. They'll wanna get a look 'atcha."

I peered at him from the corner of my eye. A look at me. I nodded passively and waved it off to myself. I tended to over-think things. However, I'd also had my fair share of being victimized to the probing eyes of indecent men in my days of being a loner. I prayed this wouldn't be another one of _those_ situations. Being female wasn't necessarily an advantage in all situations.

He pulled behind a large wooden tower and parked the van under what appeared to be a half-crafted carport. I squeezed out the passenger side door and tugged my luggage along the narrow walkway as best I could. Engineer hurried around and grabbed my things for me.

"No, I can-"

"It's fine miss, just treating a lady right. Don't expect me ta be watchin' you in battle though!" He nodded with a half-smile before turning around to lead me to one of the entrances.

"Don't worry, I'm used to that by now." I chuckled. Teaching in my shirt pocket, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "I'm just gonna smoke this and I'll be right in"

Engineer chuckled to himself before turning and giving me a knowing look. "Honey, the spook's already stunk th' place up."

I hesitated and then stuck the cigarette between my lips and nodded, following him through the wooden doorway. We were standing in a concrete foyer and then proceeded through one of the two doors on the opposing wall. I instantly recognized the smell of cigarettes and a faint trace of liquor as he guided me past what could possibly be called a kitchen. As I passed, I glimpsed a man with a fire-proof suit on standing in front of the range. I was opening my mouth to ask Engineer about it when he cut me off and I'd realized we were now in the cafeteria.

"Boys, meet your new Sniper!" He patted my head. I might have took it insultingly if I hadn't gotten to know his temperament a little.

There were eight pairs of questioning eyes on me, including Engineers. I took what I was seeing pretty slowly, processing the drastically different men one by one, pausing on the large one for just a second before smiling as best I could, trying to seem somewhat friendly.

"Another GIRL?!" A younger man whined, standing up. He reminded me of my younger brother, though his size suggested he may have been only couple years under me.

My head tilted a little as I tried to understand what the problem was. I was stuck between being confused, and being insulted.

"Sniper is so tiny! She is like little baby kitten!" The large man boomed in a thick Russian accent. My obvious first impression was either his English was broken, or he was not the brightest of men. However, I looked down at myself as though he had just informed me of something I hadn't realized. Pulling my sunglasses off, I hung them on my shirt, but remained still. I tended to be a little awkward when anxious.

"Hey, Helen said she'd fit the job good, that's all I know! Take it easy on 'er!" Engineer responded holding his hands up.

I shifted reluctantly, oblivious as to who 'Helen' was, and instead took to studying the rest of the room. There was a black man sitting at a small table by the window, wavering, apparently drunk. He had one eye covered with an eye-patch and my subconscious wanted me to believe he were some sort of pirate, though I seriously doubted this. There were three other men sitting at the table directly in front of me, one had a strong jaw and an American flag pin on his shirt collar, another had sleek dark hair and glasses. The guy in the middle wore a mask over his head and a dark crimson waistcoat, with his white dress shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His shoulders were broad and his eyes were half-lidded, a light shade of blue tinged his irises. He stared at me in a manner I couldn't quite place. I was either boring to him, or he was trying to figure something out to himself. I swallowed loudly and looked at the engineer.

"Aye, the lass is quiet! Come have a few shots with meh, you'll forget you were never here before!" The drunk man exclaimed in a Scottish accent, almost toppling out of his chair.

I smiled halfheartedly. "I may take you up on that, but not now I'm afraid."

"Bloody right you will!" He hiccupped.

Engineer sighed with a hint of second-hand embarrassment and motioned for me to sit. He took my things to my room, I assumed, as I sat awkwardly at the table across from the large Russian man. Was I being abandoned, or encouraged to fraternize? I wasn't sure, but sitting to myself while half the room still stared at me was disheartening in a way.

"What's your title?" I asked the man across from me, scooting forward as if to hide from the staring.

"I am Heavy! I carry big guns and defend all my little teammates! You help Heavy protect!" He responded enthusiastically, nailing the table with his fist. The corner of my mouth twitched as I strained to hold back a laugh. So far, everyone seemed pretty confidant. That was good, because I'll admit I've been one to get a big head at times.

The boy who had exclaimed about my gender only moments ago, darted next to me and sat pressed against my side as though there was no more room on the bench. Again, I bit my tongue and put forth the most genuine smile I could, wondering if he was like this all the time.

"Nah, she's gonna be all into her makeup and hair an shit. Remembah the last one? It'd all be meltin' across the side of her face before ceasefire." He had a condescending smile glued to his face.

"HEY! Sniper puts hair in nice-looking braid, unlike you, little Scout baby!" Heavy boomed, making both the boy and I flinch.

I wrenched a smile. "Thank you, Heavy. That's…sweet."

I don't really know what to tell you. I had never dealt with such upfront and loud coworkers, therefore, I didn't really know how to respond to the situation.

I jumped when the man in the fireproof suit I had glimpsed earlier approached me, placing a large plate of food on the table. He muffled something unintelligible and waited for me to take it. I pulled the plate toward me and nodded to him, unsure of what to say back. Scout began to chatter into my ear about the baseball game he's just watched as I ate what I was given gratefully. I listened to he and Heavy argue for quite some time over

This didn't seem too shabby so far. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

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**Look, down there! v Leave me something in that thur' box! :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello loves. I hope you enjoy the story so far, I know it's not incredible but I do what I can. I went ahead and decided to update, mostly because I'm anxious. Sorry if any of you feel it's moving too slowly or quickly, I'm working on the pace, figuring out how to build the plot up. I also forgot to mention: If you have any concerns, or if anything about my writing is bothering you, I accept constructive criticism with open arms.**

**EDITED:: Just cleaned up a few spelling errors, and wording that irritates me. Nothing big. :)  
**

**With that said, here we go:**

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I awoke the next day, slightly perplexed for a moment, until I remembered where I was. The creaky bed below me reminded me that I was somewhere in New Mexico, newly employed. The shouts of my teammates could be heard somewhere in the facility, I presumed in the cafeteria, and a few pairs of shuffling feet. My question was whether or not that was the sound of work. There was the obnoxious and focused screaming of the Soldier, followed by a loud thud of which I couldn't be certain as to the source.

It was a bright day, and I enjoyed the warm sunlight that poured through the tiny window adjacent to me. I sat myself up, stretching my arms, and cracked my back before standing. Trying to shake the sleep off me as best I could, I took another good look around me at my new quarters. The floor was pale, wooden, and the walls nearly matched it in a rather drab off-white color. It basically felt like a cardboard box, not offering much space for anything. There was a small window, as mentioned before, on the wall opposite the door, and the only furniture was a twin-sized bed with mediocre cotton sheets, and a rickety oak nightstand. It wasn't impressive, but it beat the hell out of living in barracks, or the filthy hidey-hole I had grown accustomed to which housed nothing but a mattress. It was a start.

Approaching the closet in the far left corner of the room, I opened the door warily. There were four or five uniforms neatly hung, and two pairs of knee-high, triple-buckle combat boots on the ground. I pulled one of the uniforms out and inspected it: a crimson undershirt, red button-up blouse, and a pair of khaki-colored straight-legged pants. There were also a number of cropped vests and holsters. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. So they dressed us up. Not a terrible fate, at least they appeared to be appropriate.

Oh but I sighed once more when I realized that it wasn't appropriate at all, occasionally kicking one of my legs in frustration. These clothes were unnecessarily snug: this had to be some kind of lewd joke. I never dressed like a "lady", according to what was and wasn't acceptable nowadays, but this was just ridiculous. I in fact had grown used to the opposite: men's undershirts and army-issued pants. Sure, I looked boyish in them, and people stared, but it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than this bullshit. I stopped outside the doorway leading to the cafeteria and cursed as I struggled to pull my low-cut pants up, only to give myself a wedgie. I would have to eventually figure out who the jack-ass uniform tailor was.

It smelled delightful in here. I wandered in, still slightly nervous and observed my surroundings. Seems I had missed the little scuffle I'd heard in my bedroom. I took pride in the fact that I had done a pretty decent job at remembering everyone's names, or titles rather. Demoman was still passed out on the table by the window to my left, the shards of a broken liquor bottle scattered around his feet. I spotted the Medic through the little window that connected the kitchen and cafeteria, who was occupying himself with dishes or something of the sort. Scout was on the couch watching the boxy television; his body slumped forward in a predictable boyish manner, alongside Heavy.

"Well this don't look like much work to me." I spoke up jokingly. The room was so quiet beforehand, it was hard to tell whether or not anyone was in the mood for humor. However, I imagined sitting around must be common here.

Scout's eyes widened, finally noticing me. He looked me up and down, showing no shame in his staring, and finally grinned in amusement. "Nice uniform, toots."

I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage and he raised his eyebrows, looking away, "Sorry."

Heavy laughed, slapping his knee. "Scout is angry because women do not like his stupid Boston mouth."

"AYE!" Scout exclaimed, pushing his face towards Heavy's, "I get dames all the time back in Boston, this one's obviously battin' for the other team or she'd have been all ova' me by now!"

I snorted loudly. "Yeah, okay. You just keep telling yourself that."

"Shouldn't ya be in the kitchen doin' the woman's work?"

"How about you run along and go fuck yourself brat?"

"HEAVY WOULD LIKE SANDVICH!" The large man became excited, sitting up slightly at the mentioning of food, the kitchen, or anything related.

I turned and smiled lightly, "You don't want me to prepare food for you, friend." Patting him on the back reassuringly, I narrowed my eyes back at Scout threateningly.

I already liked Heavy and Scout, in an odd way, though it seemed as though Scout and I's relationship would be one laced with insult, probably due to our closeness in age. It reminded me of my little brother and I, always fighting and taking cheap shots at each other.

"So where ya from?" Scout piped up after a moment of thought. I look at him cautiously, wondering if it was some sort of bait. He seemed genuine enough though, the sly smile fading into a more curious expression.

"Vancouver." I said evenly. I sat on the couch next to him, placing him between Heavy and I.

"Ohhhh! Canada!" He said as though I were some sort of exotic creature. His left knee was bouncing. I tried to ignore it. He pointed to himself proudly, "I actually happen to be from-"

"Boston?" I muttered flatly.

Scout's face fell, along with his hands, "How'd ya know that?" Heavy bellowed with laughter. I couldn't help but let a grin slide across my face as well. What an adorable duo.

"Vould you like me to prepare you something my girl?" Medic called from the kitchen, startling me. His accent was clearly German and I took note at how diverse this faction was turning out to be. This was the first time he had spoken to me and I beamed at him gratefully. "No thanks, Doctor. I don't usually eat breakfast."

"Vhy ever not?" He raised an eyebrow, almost condescendingly, "Zat is irresponsible of you, don't you zink?"

I shrugged, getting up to walk into the kitchen, "I'm not a particularly large girl, so my stomach kinda gets sensitive in the morning." It hit me that I should have phrased this in a question, since I was speaking with a doctor. So many uses I could find with him, so many questions I would bring up later. I began to fiddle with the coffee maker beside the sink Medic stood at. "So tell me about these battles. I don't want to be running in blind I suppose. They didn't say too much on the phone."

"Easy enough, Freundin. Ze announcer vill let us know vhen ze battle is about to commence. You vill have time to prepare your veapons before the gates are unlocked and ve're permitted to leave ze base. After some time, zer vill be a ceasefire. Zat's it." He said, attending to some of the dishes.

I nodded. "I understand. So… we have the respawn then?"

He smiled as though he had expected the question and looked at me. "Of course. Isn't it amazing? It's a fascinating piece of technology. Controversial, of course- but extremely convenient!" He stuck his finger up to emphasize this.

I lowered my head thoughtfully, watching the coffee trickle into the large pot. I was still tinged with sleep, though thoughts about the day ahead raced through my mind. Would I be able to keep up? I was used to slow-paced, intense situations. This didn't sound as though it were the same class of expertise. I just hoped I would fit in so I didn't have to move for the tenth time.

When the coffee was finished, Medic and I had gone through an entire discussion regarding different knives and blades one could use against an enemy. Also, the coffee was terrible. Not that I expected to be treated like luxury. I realized that the Doctor was somewhat gentle, and extremely intelligent, though I also believed there was something dangerous in him. It showed through his cracked smile, his laugh. Though I had also been present for less than a day. Perhaps assumptions weren't wise at this point.

I was curious about the other parts of the base I hadn't yet seen. Discarding my coffee cup in disappointment, I thanked Medic again for his earlier offer, and exited the room. The living quarters of the base weren't particularly large, but the hallways all felt unnecessarily long. I walked quietly, as was habit, and took one of the passages to the left of the kitchen doorway, adjacent to the main entrance. The windows and ceilings were sort of high and there were several closed doors to my right. I didn't attempt opening them in the case they were bedrooms. You never know what you might walk into. After taking the right hallway at the end of the corridor, there was another exit leading outside, where the sun was shining fiercely. I couldn't wait to sweat my ass off! And I meant that on every sarcastic level possible.

I was very relieved that the place was somewhat relaxed. There weren't many demands outside of battle to be met, and people actually spoke with one another casually. Though I usually didn't work with organized mercenaries, this was something I could see myself eventually getting used to. Hopefully. I was stuck in a contract, so I could only hope it would be worth it.

The walls were concrete, as were the floors. I paused and considered walking outside. However, I wasn't told whether or not we were allowed to exit before a fight, so I opted for the heavy door ahead of me, which was cracked open. I approached it slowly and rested my fingers on the handle indifferently, opening it wider. After glancing around me for prying eyes, I stepped inside and walked down a small corridor which opened to a larger room.

I recognized it as a shower room. The floor, walls and ceiling were all made up of off-colored white tiles with cheap, tiny red mosaics here and there, almost resembling blood if you glanced too quickly. On the far side, a showerhead was running, but no one stood under it. I thought about backing out for a second, not knowing whether or not this was a men's shower room or not. Looks like the the interior designer wasn't incredibly talented, or just didn't comprehend the existence of signs.

I was turning to observe the lockers, when something suddenly shifted in my peripheral vision. Glancing quickly to my right, I watched in awe and mild horror as a towel lift itself up slowly from a shower bench. My eyes grew in size and my breath hitched in my throat. Was this happening right now? That fucking towel was _moving_, I promise it was. It slid through the air, then whipped horizontally, the opposite corner floating upwards as well. I took a cautious step back, unsure of how exactly I should be reacting, and began turning to leave. It then wrapped around itself vigorously, and before I could make it out of the doorway- SMACK! I yelped, hopping back in time to miss the swat, and immediately booked it out the doorway.

I stumbled over the threshold and turned around swiftly, darting through one of the exits. No alarms went off, and there was no sign of anyone around. I stopped running after the door closed and tried to breathe evenly, recovering my sense of reason. It was fairly hot outside again and I rolled up my sleeves while regaining my composure.

My eyes darted around warily as I took a cigarette from my pocket, hand trembling slightly. There had to be an explanation for what I just saw, but I wasn't going to run to my teammates like a scared child on my first day. I'm sure everything hadn't quite been explained to me yet. Or maybe I was finally going mad. Or maybe I was just being fucked with. I lit the cig and took an exasperated drag, leaning against the wall next to the door, occasionally peering through the glass as though the towel would come bursting through. I put my aviators on and looked at the bright blue sky instead. At least it was nice outside. There was that.

I only stood for about two minutes before an announcement boomed over the speaker directly above me, causing me to bite my tongue and drop my cigarette.

"Mission begins in ten minutes."

I muttered a few curses as I crushed the cigarette with the toe of my boot and lapped my tongue against the back of my teeth, irritated. Stepping back inside, I ran directly into something solid, muttering excuses and apologies quickly. I looked up to see the Spy staring down at me with those bored, icy eyes. I immediately shut up and honestly didn't know what to say or do. He smelled like…soap.

The color drained from my face as the realization hit me, "You were-"

"Oui." He smirked.

So he was French. I could smell cologne and cigarettes on him. And a strong ego. I grew up next to a prominently French neighborhood for about 4 years as a child, approaching my teenage years. The sound of his accent was almost nostalgic.

"I didn't- I'm sorry I-" I stuttered. How humiliating.

He waved his hand and began to walk up the hallway. "Do not apologize."

I was left standing like an idiot for a few moments before quickly regained my composure and began walking behind him. I merely followed in silence. Was this how acted around _everyone_? Too good to make small talk, or at least say hello? I poked my tongue out at his backside childishly as I heard the click of his lighter.

He walked with elegance and nonchalance. I could hear quick footsteps around the corner and yet he was in no hurry. Well shit, if he's not busting his ass, neither will I. I kept my pace a few steps behind him until we reached the cafeteria once more. Soldier was standing upright and yelling into the faces of all his teammates. Spy stopped and offered to let me pass. I nodded and walked by him, taking the seat farthest from the screaming patriot. He was in Pyro's face, er- mask?

"AND IF YOU THINK YOU SISSIES CAN JUST RUN AROUND AND DO THINGS YOUR OWN WAY, YOU'RE WRONG. UNDERSTAND, MAGGOT?"

"Huddah!"

I cracked a smile. Pyro was kind of precious. I leaned back in my chair casually, almost mirroring Scout on the opposite side of our little "pow-wow". I glanced at him with a straight face and he winked, eyes darting from my chest to my face. I stopped tilting the chair back and forth and frowned disapprovingly. Fucking dumbass.

"AND JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE NEW, DOESN'T MEAN YOU GET SPECIAL TREATMENT! YOU HEAR ME?!" My chair fell back to all fours as I realized it was my face being bellowed into. Behind my glasses my left eye twitched. "Gotcha", I responded flatly. Scout snickered, and I chose to ignore him.

He got to Spy, spraying spittle all over his balaclava as he spat out crude insults about France in general. The Frenchman glared profusely and blew smoke in the Soldier's face, refusing to answer with words. I turned back and stared straight ahead of me, trying to keep a straight expression. I was surrounded by assholes.

"Mission begins in five minutes."

"EVERYONE GET READY AND INTO POSITION." However, halfway through Soldier's statement, most of the team was already out the door. Spy and Demoman were the only two left besides me, as I stood awkwardly, unaware and uninformed of what the hell I needed to be doing. The Spy was crushing his cigarette on the floor as Demo staggered up from his chair, taking a swig out of his bottle before lumbering out the door behind Soldier. Spy got up slow and quiet-like; every move he made was calm. We both pulled out a cigarette at the same time, and it was damn awkward. I lit it and glanced at him silently before moving to follow the others.

I caught up with the rest of the team and stopped abruptly, observing as everyone gear themselves up. Rifles, shotguns, machine guns, knives, bats, flamethrowers- you name it, we had it. What a well-armed war. The closest teammate to me was Demo. I watched him strap explosives to his chest, a bewildered look hidden behind my aviators. This was going to be dangerous, and- I had a gut feeling- full of reckless decisions. But with the safety net of the respawn, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

"Hey-" I tapped on his shoulder, "Where's _my_ shit?"

He looked at me slowly, focusing his eyes, no doubt experiencing a hangover while simultaneously attempting to re-intoxicate himself. "Aye! Your equipment be over yonder." He pointed to the right corner of the room. I followed his direction and opened what I believed to be the correct cabinet and grinned with warm satisfaction when I viewed its contents. The rifle that I could only assume was meant for me lay on the middle shelf, glistening. It was a standard issue sniper rifle, but it was beautiful nonetheless. There was also a small submachine gun and a kukri, situated neatly behind it. I lifted the blade up and tossed it lightly, testing the weight and grip. Australian. Fitted grip. A nasty looking little beauty she was. I hadn't gotten to engage in hand-to-hand for quite some time. My face was no doubt wicked with intent. I had that in me sometimes. It gets me in a lot of trouble.

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**Don't forget to review! c:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heyyyyy guys Thank you for the reviews, and I'm pretty pumped for you to read this chapter. This is my first shot at writing out an action scene in quite a while, with the tiniest dash of sex appeal and the whatnots. Sexy time is a bit further though :) Enjoy!**

**-Edited Version- (Just a few rearrangements, nothing big)  
**

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_FUCK_.

I clutched the side of my face in searing agony and slid behind a concrete pillar. Blood was pouring through my fingers as I struggled to pull out my SMG, my hand shaking clumsily. The BLU soldier had partially blown the side of my face off. My head plummeted in pain and my vision was blurry, as I felt the warm blood leaking down my neck.

"MEDIC!" I shouted harshly.

I heard scuffling beside of me and another explosion, causing my ears to ring. I could barely hear him, but I could make out what he was saying for the most part. It felt as though someone were cupping their hand against my ear. I was breathing vehemently, my dignity scarred in having made myself such an easy target.

"Sniper, vhy are you in the middle of battle?!" He yelled over the gunshots, ducking under a wall next to me, "Do you really need me, I'm rather busy!"

"Yeah, considerin' I'm a fucking support and half of my eyesight's gone, I'm thinking I might need healing, Doc." I said through gritted teeth. The pain was immense and getting worse.

The medic shifted his weight, pulling back the crank on his gun, and I felt the strangest sensation. It was numbing, borderline hallucinatory, though there was a sting as tissue grew together slowly. I had never seen such a thing, but it appeared to be very useful, though Medic was obviously irritated about my being too close to the frontlines. I couldn't help it, I wasn't aware the fighting would be this damned fast-paced, and they had ganged up on me before I knew it. I needed to devise a more cautious strategy.

I shot up off the ground in a sudden shift in exhilaration and sprinted towards the back of the field, closing in on the highest mining tower. I ran inside and up the open stairwell as fast as I could, pulling my Sniper Rifle back out and readying it. At the top of the steps, I paused and listened, holding my breath. I didn't hear anyone in the vicinity, so I skipped nimbly across the short wooden landing and into a little hidey-hole. It appeared to be some sort of tiny observation room, dark with the windows partially boarded up. Perfect.

I sat on a crate, cutting through translucent motes of dust swirling in the sunlight, and propped my new baby up on the windowsill, placing my eye over the scope and focusing it to my desired intensity. I peered over the ledge at the battle straight ahead, taking note of which opposing team members were present. It was twenty minutes into battle and I felt like I had lost way too much time trying to find where I was supposed to be. I checked the cross-hairs for tampering, and when I was satisfied that everything was in perfect order, I rested my arms on the ledge and took position, squinting my left eye, and focusing intently. I moved my aim to a few different places, and singled in on the most vulnerable target: the BLU Scout. I was slow at starting this battle, but speed was never an issue for me, and this little Scout's darting motions would do him no good. I was excited, but I forced myself to relax, holding my breath to further increase my steadiness.

I squeezed the trigger and the boy went down in a spray of red. This triggered a sly grin over my face. I then proceeded to take out the BLU Pyro, and Soldier. I had nailed their entire offense in less than 30 seconds. I smirked with satisfaction and rested the heel of my boot on the corner of a nearby box. I relaxed there for a bit, the minutes going by quickly as I picked off who I could, and cursed when my targets got away. The small scale of this war made everything so much easier, allowing me to concentrate on the location of the opposing team members.

I was about to fire at the enemy Demoman before I was jerked off my crate violently by an invisible force around my neck. I tried to cry out but my assailant's arm was tight around my throat. I could feel my face swelling. My heart raced harshly, not something I cared to admit.

"Ah, what do we have here? Mon truc nouveau jeu…" A husky voice growled into my ear. I jerked my lower body violently and he forced me against the back wall, his hand slamming my face into the wood forcefully, the other pressing a cold blade against the back of my neck. I inhaled forcefully, desperate for air. I had completely forgotten about the spooks.

"You think you're real clever don't you?" I mumbled against the wall, relaxing, providing a false sense of carelessness. He slid the blade down my back threateningly. Why was it I hadn't met one person so far with an even head on their shoulders? Including myself.

"I play with my food first." He responded in an amused voice. "You're up here all alone with the perfect gentleman, I do not understand why you appear so bitter?"

"Because we're in the middle of a battle, and your inflated ego doesn't quite do the trick for me sweetheart." I said bluntly.

He chuckled and I felt his broad chest grow closer. My fists twitched anxiously.

He brutally jammed the blade of his butterfly knife into my back as I sucked in air, surprised. I arched my back as he stabbed me twice more, the base of the knife hitting my spine forcefully. I couldn't bring myself to speak words as I crumbled to the ground, paralyzed in pain. There wasn't a name for the emotion you feel when you're lying on the floor, stabbed to death mercilessly. The last I saw were the bottoms of his well-tailored blue pants and his shiny leather shoes, walking away gracefully...

-Until I woke back up. I was out for no more than a few seconds before I was standing upright in front of the large set of doors before me, conscious and unharmed, though my heart was racing and a cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. I had to process my thoughts for a moment before I was back out in the fight, anger slowly replacing nausea in the pit of my stomach. Sure, I was still a little shaken up, but time was limited, and I was desperate to do well on my first day.

I hurried along the battlefield, out of harms way, ducking when necessary and wielding my SMG desperately. Rocks showered over me every now and then. I took a well placed hit to the hip from the BLU Scout and his trusty bat, but I succeeded in spattering his head with my gun before he took a nearly-successful knockout aimed for my skull. I rubbed my stinging side before continuing along to a different perch. I glimpsed our Pyro running in the opposite direction to my right and called to him. No doubt the Spy would be in the area upon my return.

I beckoned him, and he turned around quickly, rushing towards me. I could almost see the excitement behind his mask. It seemed he already knew my intentions and I smiled, nodding sharply before racing up the steps. He stayed somewhat behind, trying not to give himself away as I turned the corner past the door. When I reached the first landing of the tower, I slowed my pace, creeping along the far wall, pulling out my Kukri for effect.

"Five minutes left in the mission."

I calmed my breath and listened hard. I heard nothing for a few moments, and then, as expected, I sensed the faintest creak a few feet ahead of me. My reaction was instinctual, timed. I flung myself in the direction of a window against the wall, making sure to clear the mooring for my flame-throwing friend.

"Now." I stated loud and clear, the left corner of my mouth tugging upwards in a smug smile.

The Pyro stepped onto the landing as cued, immediately spraying a wave of flames in front of him. And to my relief and excitement, a lean slender form materialized amidst the fire and the Spy cried out painfully, his suit catching fire as he threw his arms up, desperately attempting to fall back from the assault. The heat of the inferno pressed against my face, and I held an arm over my head, shielding myself slightly.

"How's THAT for playing with your food?!" I exclaimed, over the sound of the gushing fire and French cries for assistance issuing from the RED spook, before he eventually collapsed, his charred body disappearing. A wave of shameless gratification washed over me.

I smacked my hand on Pyro's back, giving him an impressed thanks and receiving a muffled "No problem!", before I hopped back on my crate and reloaded my rifle, pushing the narrow bullet into the cartridge, cocking it. I sat her back on the windowsill and resumed my carnage. I spotted the BLU Scout once more, and nailed him as usual. He must have been fairly new like me. Of course he was offense, but he tended to run in a straight line, never strafing. Sweat was running down the sides of my face in streams. It wasn't as hot as it was at the airport the day before, but it was damned close.

Peering through the scope once more, I focused my aim on the BLU Pyro. I merely succeeded in grazing his mask, for he jerked back sharply, skewing my line of sight. I cursed under my breath. I quickly fired another shot, taking him down beautifully. To his left was a medic. I missed him the first time as well.

"Fuck!" I spat in irritation, placing the second shot through his skull. They were going to notice me. Although- I had been sniping in the same area, not really knowing the base well.

"Mission ends in sixty seconds."

We were losing, but just barely.

"PICK UP THE PACE BOYS!" The soldier screamed deafeningly from below me. I tightened my grip on my rifle, my heart beating faster. I attempted to pick out two or three more targets, only successful at taking the other Sniper out, having spotted him hiding behind a wall on far right side of the BLU base.

"Oh FUCK!" Scout bellowed. I swiveled my vision to the source of his voice only to be too late in saving him from his counterpart. The BLU ran out of sight. There were no more targets left. I heard the floor behind me creak, my heart already racing as I shot up from my seat. I didn't take being timed and reminded of it too well. I jumped onto the windowsill, rifle in hand, and plunged out, grabbing a steel support bar on my way down and hanging midway to the ground.

When I plummeted to my feet, I regained my balance for a moment. I took out my SMG and pointed it to the window above.

He was there, uncloaked, balanced on the windowsill. He gazed down at me, with a satisfied look on his face.

I fired my gun, but- wait. My gun didn't fire. The match must have been over. I dropped it and realized I'd left my Kukri propped against the wall int he room above. I could hear screaming and spotted Engineer panicking as the BLU Sniper slashed him with his own blade, his expression humored as he tipped his hat. Then, I felt my own panic hitch in my chest and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I heard a nimble thud behind me.

I didn't have time for a dramatic stare-down, so, as much as I hated ever running in cowardice, I took off as fast as my legs would allow. There was a metallic _click_ behind me.

"A LITTLE HELP PLEASE?!" I bellowed out as I ran, aimlessly really.

Scout shot around the corner of the loading bay ahead of me, nearly falling face-first, barely catching himself. They were chasing them out of the respawn. He also wielded no weapons at the moment. The look of glee he had worn all through the battle had disappeared and was replaced with genuine alarm.

"Every man for himself!" He called out to me, passing me swiftly. The spy must have been cloaked, for I heard a yelp and another dull thud behind me as he took out the boy. Shit, shit, shit.

I knew he was catching up to me with his long legs, but I pushed as hard as I could. My feet shot out from beneath me as he gripped my braid, and I slammed flat on my back, knocking the breath out of me. I couldn't even yell out in pain. I stared up, wild-eyed, as he crouched over me. He beamed with accomplishment, my view of his face upside down. Fear knocked against the walls of my heart, and I was glad the sound of gunshots resounded around us, in case he could somehow hear it. Would I respawn after this?

"Mon cher, you must learn that _I_ get the last word."

"Fuck you." I finally was able to speak in spite of my distress, and I spat in his face ungraciously. He closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled, then pressed the barrel of his Ambassador against my throat roughly, slightly choking me, and pulled the trigger. At least giving him attitude seemed to speed up the process.

When I _did_ spawn back inside the base, my hand flew to my neck and I fingered it gently, still not used to materializing so suddenly, unharmed. Scout, Demoman, and Engineer all sat around me, chins resting in their hands sullenly. Well, except for Demo, who was already swaying a few feet away, taking a swig from a flask. My teammates appeared in the room one by one, but no one spoke. I walked briskly to the window, eyes searching for the BLU spy. I spotted him pacing around slowly in the center of the battlefield, spinning his revolver in his hand, the other held behind his back. I grinded my teeth together quietly in frustration, crossing my arms

"Don't bother. That Spy's always treated ya'll that way." I heard Engineer suggest behind me. I turned to him.

"It's people like him that give mercenaries a disgusting name."

Scout popped up from the seat he had on the floor. "Yeah, I heard he drove one chick insane. You oughta watch ya'self."

My jaw dropped. As if my respect for him wasn't already incredibly low, I now felt a burning hate toward him. Maybe our team's Spy wasn't so bad after all in light of his counterpart.

"Oh really?" I responded. I looked around at the other teammates, but it was the RED Spy who answered.

"Oui. Our previous Sniper was also a woman. He merely is more focused on taking out Snipers, I do not know that he is cruel to them."

At the Spy's words, I pulled my aviators over my head, and pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing pensively.

"So you're saying this guy's going to be riding my shit every day?"

"No." Medic responded evenly. "He cannot, for most Sniper's vill expect him much too often. I imagine he vas merely 'introducing' himself."

I shook my head, gazing at the floor as I pushed a cigarette between my lips. I didn't understand people like that. This was a matter I would have to solve myself it seemed. I couldn't be worried about some creep, wondering if he was right behind me every second during battle. Couldn't afford to be distracted. I struck a match and held it to the tip of the cigarette, puffing away at it before flicking it in the corner of the room, thoughtfully.

Everyone was silent for a moment before walking out of the room, one by one, the sounds of their footsteps echoing around me. Smoke lingered in the air in front of me, swirling like hazardous dust as I smiled at Pyro when he paused by the door, glancing at me with what I imagined was concern. I had noticed that Spies and Pyros weren't really too fond of one another.

"I'm a big girl, don't worry."

He nodded back, turning to follow his colleagues. I could hear Scout wondering aloud over what was for dinner in the next room, as I turned on my heel and began pacing the equipment room, hand on one hip, the other holding the cigarette and rubbing my chin in deep concentration. I gripped the bridge of my nose between two fingers, flustered. I hoped the doctor had some sleeping pills. I was going to need them. I wasn't used to killing often in one day.

"You do not appear to be a 'big girl' to me, ma cher."

I jerked around at the voice emitting from the corner of the room. I hadn't even realized Spy had not left the room.

"Why are you sp-" I paused, my eyes fixed on him. My expression fell and I shook my head again. "Nevermind, I forgot that's what you guys do. You just sit in the corner of the room and watch people like weirdos."

He stepped out from the shadow that he had previously worn. "Do not compare me to ze likes of that man." He lit a cigarette as well. "We may be conniving, but it doesn't mean we all like to toy with our enemies."

I merely frowned, choosing not to respond in the hopes that he might leave me alone. I wasn't in the mood to be harassed. I turned away from him, taking a long drag on my cigarette, flicking the ashes on the ground below me.

"Problem?" He murmured. However, it didn't sound much like genuine concern.

I froze, clenching and unclenching my jaw before I turned back around. "Excuse me? Do I know you?"

How dare he talk to me like that? Were all Spies just dicks?

"Cher, you and I are more alike than I think you would care to admit."

I stepped closer to him, my temper flaring once more. If you couldn't already tell, I was very easily provoked. One of the issues I mentioned before. In response, a smug grin slid across the older man's face, and he did not move. I in fact, was just tiniest bit nervous, but I didn't show it.

"I haven't been here for 24 hours, you're full of shit." I responded almost condescendingly, inches from his face. "I personally think you and your BLU friend are more alike than YOU would care to admit, or you wouldn't be standing here, making my life harder than it already is."

"I believe you should rethink this conversation. You're ze one that smiles when you kill." He raised his eyebrows, then blew smoke directly in my face, stinging my eyes. I grinded my teeth, scrutinizing him, trying to figure out what he was getting out of this.

"Why don't you go focus on yourself, spook." I said, in a tone meant to suggest I was uninterested in the conversation. Without waiting for a response, I turned around and as evenly as possible, exited the room, flicking my cigarette on the ground behind me, wishing it would engulf the Frenchman in flames. I cut through the foyer and into the kitchen's entrance, separate from the cafeteria, not caring to engage anyone in meaningless conversation at the moment.

My hands worked mindlessly, opening the fridge and the cabinets, searching for something that wouldn't require cooking. I left the kitchen with a few small things, walking through the cafeteria where half the team sat. I paused as I passed, then turned to speak to Medic.

"Do you have something I could take to help me sleep? I'm sorry to disturb you." I tried to smile but it was not very genuine. I was exhausted and irritated. He lowered his fork, staring up at me with careful eyes.

"Vell yes my dear, here-" I supposed he had already retrieved them for other members of the team. Engineer pushed a bottle to him and he gave me a tiny white pill.

"Just take half of it."

He smiled warmly, as if to reassure me everything would be okay. I nodded and turned, heading to my bedroom. My mind was clouded with dark thoughts, resulting from the harsh fight and also that damned BLU spook. I'd done well with suppressing these moods lately, but tonight _had_ to be the night they came back. That Spy did this. I needed to work on that.

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**Ooooooh, someone's pissy. These mood swing thingies will be elaborated in the next chapter, as well as some schweeet tension between Sniper and our lovely RED Spy.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hihihihihihi. This chapter is a nice change of pace, I hope. There's still a little action, but it's mostly drunken silliness. There's also another taste of the seductive tension forming between Spy and Sniper. Also, thanks to you anonymous reviewers, guests, etc. I don't have the means of responding to you, but you mean just as much to me! I also thank my viewers, although...you should...totally review.**

**ANYWAY, u can has dis:**

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The sky is gaping and black, there are no stars here. A chill runs over me slowly, my skin damp and smeared in dirt. I breathe heavily, stepping away from the broken man who lay on the ground before me. The grimy alley I stand in was laced with rodents and no doubt disease from the sick whores who walk it. My chest rise and falls deeply, but quietly. My vision is blurred and my actions not of my own discretion. My body operates on its own, and I feel silenced, unreadable and lacking any emotional expression.

Blood pools around my feet as I toss my knife into the air, wisps of steam hovering and stretching off my skin in streams. I catch it and with the flick of my wrist, the blade cuts through the air and nails the back of his skull, severing his soul from his body. I am a weapon. Sliding backwards across the dark wet pavement below me, I close my eye with unnecessary stillness, holding my right hand in front of me and posing it as a gun.

The air around me is tangible and writhing, as sweat drips from my chin in anticipation. He's here. I cock my thumb and take aim for the Spy's head- he stares back at me with lifeless eyes, teeth bare in a savage grin. I am dead and I murder the living. The thick black haze around us squeezes inward, and a firm shadow casts across the slender man's figure, and I feel the ground rumble menacingly. This is what a gun feels like.

The shadowy blue Frenchman gradually takes a step to the side, his moving frame lightly trailing behind him. I pull my trigger finger back, further, and further. The sweat is now streaming down my skin lazily, my breathing having almost slowed to a complete halt. I will always pull the trigger. A young girl, innocent and childlike in all matters materializes before the ethereal bullet. My entire body jerks upwards in an agony I cannot even feel. My widened eyes stay on the small child, as her tiny shadowed body jerks backwards from the impact of my shot. This is not my body.

Inhaling sharply, my eyes shot open. It took a moment for my vision to refocus as I realized I had just been having a nightmare. Motes of dust swirled in the sunlight that poured through the small, boxy window on the wall behind me. My eyelids lowered as relief washed over me. That's all it was. The same pesky negativity that I had allowed to get to me only months before that morning. I pulled my arm over my face and groaned.

However, today was supposed to be a good one. Soldier had been "quiverin' in his britches ote of excitement" as put by Demo, for our 4th of July Celebration. It's as though the nearing of the holiday had a direct physical effect on the man. When I asked Scout why it is we all celebrated this when half the team was un-American, he just beamed eagerly, raising his eyebrows, "Whadaya think? Everyone gets an' excuse t'get wasted!"

When I asked Medic the same question, he merely said to play along with it. It was easier for everyone to be drunk than one soldier amongst us, crashing around and causing scenes.

The last few months had gone quite well. I was terrified at first due to my initial bout of depression or angst, or whatever name you wanted to give it. Medic had eventually come to me, concerned with my lack of interaction and general distaste in anything and everything. My soulless disposition showed in battle, and in the base, even on days off. A week went by and he had suggested I see him in the labs. What followed was unexpected, but very relieving and helpful.

Medic was able to pull me from my state using a series of biomedical tests and anti-anxiety medications. However, I was not required to stay on these medications, for my shadow-like state disappeared after days of psychotherapy. It seemed to be brought on spontaneously after certain events took place. The doctor seemed very interested in my condition, however. The natural "mad scientist" in him begged for research. He warned me to be careful when interacting with BLU Spy. At times I could see the insanity in him, but Medic had my full trust. He never really said it, but I always noticed when he glanced at me with that father-like worry.

Oh, and speaking of Spies, they're the only reason I couldn't deem my new job experience perfect. It was true that I didn't see the BLU Spy on a frequent, consistent basis. However, when I did, it was not an easy fight.

It was honestly, probably our own RED Spy that had bothered me most of all. Most days, I didn't really see him around. When I did happen to pass him, his attitude suggested that my presence were a hindrance to wherever it was he was headed to. I wondered if we were even permitted to have guests on the property whenever I heard the muffled sighs of women through my bedroom walls (yes, I also found out his room was directly beside mine). I knew he was capable of making his sexual conquests more discreet, but I had a feeling he was doing it to me on purpose, a "freshman" hazing, maybe. Driving the bed against the wall as I lay wide-awake, staring off into space despondently. Fucking asshole.

I pulled myself from the mattress, longing to return to the fluffy blanket and pillow I had ordered from Mann Co.'s convenience store-type catalogue. I was the only one who took them from the spot on the counter where mail stacked up. Today was the first day I would become intoxicated after an entire year of sober work. I pulled my long hair up into a thick ponytail and wore a black tanktop, rather than the standard issued RED one. Other than that, I was forced to wear what I normally did, leaving the vest and button-up behind.

I had also figured out the purpose of my needlessly tight uniform. Standard was that women could be fitted with tight garments to improve sound reduction. Or at least that's what all the men claimed the reason to be. Anyway, I had grown used to it; the only probing eyes I ever had to worry about anymore were Scout's. I would hardly call it worrying, more like abhorring. To everyone else, I was just- one of the guys, to put it simply. And I was okay with it.

On my way out of my room, I almost ran into Engineer and Pyro, who were carrying an oversized red charcoal grill.

I grinned. "Sorry boys. That's a lot of grill!

"Yir tellin' me!" Engineer grunted. "Soldier's gotta have everythin' to his likin'."

"No kidding…" I stared as they attempted to descend the steps with it. I assumed this would be happening later since it was nearly in the 100's outside, and hanging around next to a grill didn't exactly sound sensible. I heard scuffling to my left, further up the corridor. Scout was carrying two cases of beer, rounding the corner, clumsily. When he saw me, he stiffened, trying his best to show off the muscles in his arms. Scout's futile attempts to woo me had continued as persistently as ever, although I admit he took all my rejections in great humor. It was…mature of him.

"Aye, I got all dis drink, whaddaya say you and I pre-game little a before all deez old men take 'em!"

I smiled mischievously, "Sounds good to me. Is this this all we got?"

"Nah", sitting the cases down, he opened one, pulling out two cans, "Far as I know, Demo's got some whiskey and some of da other guys got their own jazz. I don't do dat stuff."

He handed me a beer and I took it. "What? Too much for Scout baby?" I quoted Heavy.

He glared at me and the corner of his mouth quivered. "Didn't say dat. I just get too out of hand. Last time the guys lemme have it, I busted a hole in the kitchen wall!"

At this last part, he grinned proudly, opening his can and chugging down all its contents. I watched him, shaking my head as a disapproving mother would.

"Keep doin' that and you'll be done a lot earlier than planned, my friend."

"Nah, you'll see. I'm pretty good at dis kinda stuff." He picked the two cases back up, continuing down the hall to the cafeteria. I still doubted that last statement. However, I did hope that everyone wasn't afraid to let loose, and actually had some fun. Just because this war was scheduled, didn't mean none of us deserved to enjoy ourselves. Especially those who had been here much longer than I.

Later on in the day, we'd been subject to the typical lectures and rules that Soldier boomed at us, directing each team member in the direction he ordered. Now everything was starting to unwind, and everyone was present outside of the base. The sun hitched on the horizon, casting an orange glow on the rocky cliffs and wooden edifices surrounding us. We had brought one of the cafeteria tables out, and Engineer had pulled the van up beside of us, providing more seating.

Everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations as Pyro and I worked on starting a fire before the sun settled out of sight. I had brought some wood out from the base and was working on arranging it appropriately so that Pyro could light it. I was working on my fourth beer, and I imagined building a fire pit was probably the last productive activity I should engage in, for my own safety.

Scout and Demoman had already beaten everyone's alcohol intake, and it was only 8 o' clock. Though of course, this wasn't a peculiar feat for Demo. He was talking loudly, blundering about why he felt that hookers should be allowed on the grounds for special occasions, a half-empty bottle of whiskey hanging at his side. This was not his first bottle.

Later we all laughed as Heavy engaged in what he considered to be dancing. Engineer strummed his guitar quickly, his other leg bouncing to the rhythm as the large Russian man swayed in circles with his arms spread apart, laughing hysterically at nothing in particular.

"Heavy is good dancer!" He roared. His legs staggered, throwing him off balance as we all recoiled backwards at his large, flailing arms. Scout toppled backwards over the bench he sat on, legs splayed upwards. I could hear him snorting at himself quietly in the background. There was definitely a haze over my vision at this point in the evening. I had stolen a few shots of vodka from Heavy and my head bobbed with intoxication. I was observing Pyro tug on Soldier's sleeve. He looked at his masked teammate and gave a sharp nod. What were they up to? I sensed Spy's gaze behind me. No doubt he was naturally wary of the fire-wielder. He had taken the seat furthest from the inferno we had made, sipping on a bottomless glass of brandy Demoman had offered him. I had guessed he had quite a few.

Pyro got up from his spot in the back of the van and stepped around it. I couldn't see through the darkness past the vehicle. Of course, I was so shit-faced, I probably wouldn't remember it five minutes from now. My palette tonight was fairly broad and I could feel it working my perceptions savagely. I had to bite my tongue a lot when I drank. However, I was perfectly content with watching Heavy dance with Demo, who had just joined him. Medic and Soldier laughed coarsely, unable to stop themselves as Scout wailed incoherent slurs and crude curses from behind the table he had just fallen over. I was glad to see everyone was having an excellent night.

Out of nagging curiosity, I glanced over my shoulder at the spook. He sat hunched over the table, his glass clutched between his gloved fingers. His half-lidded stare slid to me slowly. He had removed his jacket hours ago and he slouched with his shirt-collar open, his undone tie draped over his shoulders. This was the least professional I had seen him, though he couldn't compare to most of our teammates in their current state.

I looked back ahead of me as I muttered drunkly, "What're- what're you lookin' at creep?"

His speech was mildly slurred, "Do not flatter yourself, cher. You are ze one who cannot keep your eyes off me."

I was too drunk to blush or give any fucks about his condescending attitude.

"What can I say, it's sketchy havin' some masked skinny sneak behind me. Especially a drunk one."

I heard a guttural chuckle escape his lips as he shifted. "If my wish were to dispose of you, I would have done it by now, easily." The click of a lighter.

My eyebrows raised and I giggled. "Those are fighting words, my friend."

At this point, I noticed that both Medic and Scout were listening to us. I locked eyes with my mutually young teammate as he sat in the dirt, attempting to focus his vision.

"I wouldn't want to break your small frame, petit."

My expression faltered. This was not something advised to be said to me while under the influence of beer and vodka. I turned in my seat, facing him. Scout let out his signature "whooo!" behind me.

"You should come over here next to me and say that, and we'll see whose frame is the weakest, coward." I responded with a crooked smile, a few strands of brunette hair falling in my face. Engineer changed the tune of his song from a cheery strumming to a dangerous, quick paced number. A few laughs issued around us.

Scout stood up, nearly busting his ass again on the way up. "Hey! Ya think dis chick can't fight? I seen her wipin' the BLU Spy's face across some rocks da 'utter day! The fuckin' creep didn' stand a chance!"

The older man shifted his gaze to the boy. "Oh? And do you believe she would stand a chance against you?"

Scout's face straightened as he thought it over, peering at me between narrowed eyes. His dogtags were backwards.

"Nah. No way, I'd be too much for 'er."

I faced him, a grin crawling over my face. I had an idea. It was probably something I'd only come up with while drinking, but it was something to do.

"Alright boys, no weapons, let's do this. I'd bet hand-to-hand, you wouldn't stand a chance against a girl."

This had indeed provoked the response I was looking for. His face scrunched up negatively before he let out a sneer that matched my own. Heavy began clapping and cheering.

"DON'T LET A WOMAN TALK TO YOU THAT WAY BOY!" Soldier bellowed, causing Demo to jump beside of him, hiccupping.

That was the only motivation Scout need to propel himself from the ground, pinning me hard against the table behind me. I growled, grabbing the back of his head and slamming his face against the wood between my arm and torso. He called out in pain and grasped me by my shoulders, attempting to throw me out from beneath him to the ground. I stumbled, hands out to keep my balance as I tried to back away from his swinging fists. He got me one good time in the jaw. Engineer was about to protest over hitting a lady outside of battle, before I kneed the boy in the stomach in response. That made him quiet.

Scout grunted before darting behind me surprisingly fast, hitching his arms beneath mine and lifting me off the ground. I slammed my head behind me, busting him in the face, giving me enough time to slip out of his grip. There was cheering around us as I smacked Scout as a distraction, his eyes widening, before uppercutting his chin. He fell backward, swearing and holding his face. He fell backwards over a crate. He was too drunk. However, everyone took this as my victory. Soldier got up to hold my hand over me, declaring me the winner of the short, pitiful battle. I cheered enthusiastically at my nothing, jumping up and down.

My eyes again locked on the Spy as he gazed at me, scoffing. He took another long sip of his drink, slamming the glass down in front of him. The skin visible through his balaclava glistened, moist from the humidity of the night and the fire. His eyes glistened even more, evidence of his intoxication, though the general disinterest remained.

"Well, what do you say Spy?" I let my hand down from Soldier's grip. "Think you can handle it? Don't shake your head at me like that, just admit you're scared!"

"YA SCARED!" Scout called from behind the table.

Heavy and Demoman also chimed in on my taunting, calling him names in their respective slang. I watched as the man's mouth formed a tight frown, glaring at me from behind his mask. He was very unappreciative of the attention I had directed towards him. After a moment, he stood up, maintaining his balance and composure almost perfectly. I wouldn't have guessed he was drunk if I hadn't already seen it in his face. Also, his posture wasn't as tight as what was characteristic of him. I watched him saunter around the table, one shoulder dipped to side as he traced his hand over the wooden edge.

"Spy-", Medic murmured, placing his hand roughly on the spook's arm, "please, just zink zis thr-"

However, the lean man shrugged his hand off, his stare meeting mine once more. "Non. She begged for zis."

I turned, watching him carefully, gauging his movements, his level of intoxication. I knew he was larger than me. Tall, mostly. Also, Spy was a seasoned killer, unlike Scout, who had only been doing this nine months longer than I. At that moment, I genuinely hoped I hadn't gotten myself into something more serious than I had intended. However, my pride was not cooperating with me.

"I will go easy on you, petit."

His eyes flashed dangerously as I closed the distance between us with full force, bringing my right fist inches from his face. He dodged my hit, then another attempt. Before I could even blink, he was holding my arm behind my back, gloved hand threatening to snap it. I paused for a moment, gathering myself, then with every bit of push I could summon, I rammed him backwards, pinning him against a boulder and I. A few 'ooh's issued from our audience as the spy grunted.

It didn't take much for him to shove me forward onto the ground. My heartbeat was racing and mixed with the vigor the alcohol provided, I was ready and willing to fight the hardest I could. I wasn't proud, but I was eager to make this man look ridiculous, something he obviously wasn't used to.

I was back on my feet in a spray of dust, my fists ready in front of me. Breathe in through the nose, exhale through the mouth. I darted towards him, and with a satisfied grin stretched over his face, he snatched my leg before I had it high enough to knock him out. He held it there, locking eyes with me as I struggled to stand upright. I tried to bring my right fist to his jaw, but he caught that too, holding me in a vulnerable position. However, I had expected it. Lifting the leg he didn't possess off the ground, I brought it up, crashing into his chin with the toe of my boot.

I was on my back after he let me go abruptly. Scout began cheering loudly, Soldier joining him after a few moments. The Frenchman threw himself over me, pinning my arms with his knees. With one strong gloved hand, he held my throat tightly, but not so much to cut off my breathing. He watched me, smirking confidently.

There was an explosion above us, casting a strong silhouette against the Frenchman's frame. Everyone around us cheered merrily at the sight of the exploding fireworks. Spy merely glanced to the side, his breathing strong but steady. Someone had partially put the fire out so that the light show could be fully enjoyed. The booming covered the sounds of my struggle, as I attempted to hook my legs under his arms. My vision trailed through the lenses of intoxication. He let go of my neck, allowing me to inhale deeply and slid his body further down, his knees on either side of me. Before I could reach up to take a swing at him, he had slammed my wrists down with his hands. I wondered why he trusted me to not knee him in the groin, because I most definitely had a clear shot.

However, I was aware that he had won. I was too drunk and exhausted to move. We both breathed heavily, watching one another almost threateningly. That was when I realized something was wrong. No one around us paid any attention to how long we stayed there as the cracking of fireworks resounded off the mountains.

The air was hot and seemed to writhe around me. Spy's face was indistinguishable, bathed in darkness as the light of the celebration framed his shoulders. I tried once more to free my wrists, but he only pushed harder, grinding then into the ground. I winced. He lowered his head nearer and I could feel his breath on my face, even and tinged with alcohol and cigarettes. I felt my head spinning slightly from the vodka. But I didn't struggle. All the struggle was out of me, and all I felt was…was…

His mouth was beside my ear now and I felt the goosebumps spread across my skin, in spite of the heat. I think I was holding my breath as the lights flashed before my eyes, the sounds barely audible over the rush of blood in my head. He whispered against my ear, ever so quietly.

"Vous marches dangereusment, ma chérie…"

My wrists relaxed and darkness began to cloud my vision. He let my arms go, but it was too late. I fell into a drunken slumber, wondering what exactly had just happened.

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**You should definitely review now. Give me a piece of your mind! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, thanks so much for the reviews, I'm really glad you enjoyed the little campfire brawl! This is a pretty lengthy chapter, and it will include more of Sniper's background since she hasn't been too clear about what brought her to Team Fortress. Also, I realized the setting isn't very clear, so I just wanted to say that the base resembles 2Fort for the most part, with a few things I added considering the in-game map isn't exactly tailored for living in. Anyway, here it is:**

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I could hear the sound of two people talking, rapidly. One of them had a distinctly high pitched voice and I wanted to groggily tell them to shut the fuck up. My head felt as though it were about to explode and my hair was sticking to my face and neck, grimy with sweat. I tried to open my eyes but squeezed them shut again quickly when the sunlight hit my face harshly. I groaned in annoyance. I hadn't felt a hangover this bad since my senior year of high school.

When I was finally able to look around to some extent, I realized that the voices I had heard were coming from the TV that stood before me, sideways in my vision. I must have passed out in the sad excuse for a den. The couch was lumpy, but at least someone had left me some warm blankets that were tucked behind me for when the night got chilly. I lie there, watching the cartoons as I attempted to further rouse myself from sleep, yawning. Looney Toons. I cracked a smile, watching as the charming characters assaulted one another lightheartedly. Just like being back at home.

However, my smile fell in shock as I felt something squirm behind me. Those weren't blankets. A man grunted, attempting to stretch his body, pressed firmly against my backside. Oh god. I didn't…there was no way. I wouldn't have slept with someone on this base, regardless of the amount of alcohol content in my bloodstream. Spy's masked face appeared in my mind's eye, wickedly pinning me to the ground. Nausea shifted in the pit of my stomach.

Slowly, I turned my neck, hoping it was just Pyro being cuddly. He (she?) liked to hug me often because I was the only one on the base who allowed it. I knew it wasn't, though. There's no way my luck could play out that well.

"G'mornin toots." Scout slid his free arm over my waist, grinning. I couldn't imagine how unattractive my expression looked, horror taking away my ability to speak. This was the last person I could have wanted lying behind me, crotch against ass, no shame presently showing. No. No, no, no, no, no. Please no. To my very slight relief, we were both fully clothed, aside from Scout's missing cap and headset. I looked down to see only my shoes missing. I glanced back up to his face, my eyebrows squeezing together.

"Scout." I stated, staring him directly in his eyes.

"Yeah babe, whatsup?"

I winced. "Don't call me that. Did we- we didn't…"

He pressed his nose against mine before I could pull away, responding louder than necessary: "WE SURE DID! And you was screamin' my name every second of it!"

I shoved myself away from him, falling into the floor with a thud. Suddenly, my hangover was the least of my worries. I stared up at him in disbelief.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Boomed a voice to my left, followed by a slam on the table. I jumped at the sudden sound, before realizing that it was only Demoman occupying his usual table of drunkenness by the window. He was obviously still intoxicated. I watched him, my eyes having not reduced in size, as if to beg him: 'Please. Please kill me now.'

"Yeah! You was all 'Oh Scout, I've wanted ya ta boink me fa' so long, take me, take me!' " The boy sprawled up on his knees and began dry-humping the pillow fiercely, mimicking a woman's orgasm poorly. I watched him, pursing my lips together pensively, shaking my head. If we did have sex, I doubted it had gone down that way. I turned back to Demo, eyes pleading.

"Please Demo, tell me this didn't happen."

Before he could respond, another voice spoke up. "Your gullibility is questionable, ma cher."

The three of us glanced up at the Frenchman who was standing before the kitchen window connecting the two rooms. I heard him turn the sink on below him, his eyes cast downwards. He frowned tensely, his brow furrowed, and I wondered if he too had managed to develop a murderous hangover. Then, something happened to me that hadn't happened in quite some time. I blushed. But why? His mere presence had brought on this sudden behavior, and I couldn't tell what the reasoning was. Then, I recalled our brawl. He had me pinned down, I'm fairly sure. The sensation of his breath against my skin crept back up my neck and I wondered if this had actually happened, or if it was a theatric result of my being very wasted. However, I would not let him see the contemplation and embarrassment in my face, so I turned my head to Scout savagely, feigning a look of anger.

"You evil son of a bitch."

He shrugged, showing off his buck-toothed grin. "How was I s'pposed ta know? I was probably just as blacked out as you, it coulda happened!"

Again, my face slackened. "…blacked…out?"

"YEH! You were a' choppin' cans of booze with yer big blade there and whinin' aboot how hard it was to open 'em." Demoman explained, gesturing to my kukri, which was lying beside the couch at my feet before he belched excessively.

So I hadn't passed out after all. I was merely transforming into a more belligerent, big-mouthed version of myself.

"Oui. Zen you came in here wis ze boy and began wrestling again." Spy added, not taking his eyes from the sink. "You fought until you both crawled onto ze couch together, and began whispering little secrets to one another, giggling like school girls. Zen you fell asleep, curled around one anuzzer."

Scout crossed his arms disapprovingly at the spook's choice of words, facing forward to watch the television. I was looking down at my belt buckle solemnly, before I dared raising my eyes to the Frenchman slowly. He caught my gaze to my surprise and I swallowed.

His mouth split into a smirk, watching me with those cold blue eyes. "It was rather adorable."

Before the heat could rise into my face once more, I was off the floor, retreating to my bedroom, muttering something about taking a shower. I could hear Scout complaining about how he didn't 'giggle' and he wasn't 'adorable'. The boy had insecurity issues, and they may have exceeded mine. Maybe.

I entered my bedroom, shutting the door behind me tensely. Looking around, I made sure everything was as I had left it, and happy to see that no drunken mess of a man had stumbled in here and wrecked my things. Then, I slid down the door, crouching on the floor. I buried my face in my hands and exhaled loudly. Stop it. Stop acting like such a little pansy and get over it. My stomach had butterflies in it and I clutched it as if that would make the feeling disappear.

I waited there until the moment of girly tenderness had dissipated and I stood back up, readying for my shower. I was being paid to fight in a war, not to develop a hasty crush. No. Wrong wording, I didn't have a crush on him. I just hadn't gotten laid in so long and I heard women in his bedroom every once in a while, and it was making me restless. That's all. Or at least I tried to convince myself of this so that I could focus my mind elsewhere, anywhere. I straightened my shoulders and began gathering my things. Psh, I would rather sleep with Scout anyway, if I had to choose. At least he didn't genuinely believe he was too good for the rest of his comrades, an ego set to deprave the esteems of others. He just had an attitude.

I took my shower slowly, savoring all the free time I had today before work snuck up on us again tomorrow. When I was finished, I tiptoed back to my room with my towel draped around me. Once inside, I locked the door and dropped the towel to my feet, examining my naked body in the mirror. My hair was tossled and wet, dropping little beads of water around my feet and on my shoulders. I was nothing special. My breasts weren't exactly voluptuous and my hips were slightly narrow. Of course, all the physical activity I had endured over the years had trimmed any and all of my body fat, leaving soft bands and curves of muscle. I turned, examining my backside. Well, at least EVERYTHING wasn't flat.

There were three soft, pink gashes of scar tissue lining down my spine crookedly where the BLU Spy had overdid his handiwork on my first day. Medic had explained that stab wounds were more prone to scarring than bullet holes and blunt hits to the skin when phased through the spawner. I had noticed this effect on the opposing Heavy as well, who had a similar scar running across his face from the sharp impact of my kukri. He had gotten too close and it was all I could do to defend myself. I didn't regret it, of course.

As I stared somberly at myself in the reflection, I let my mind wander. I guess I owe you all an explanation as to why I acted as I did, and why I had sought the employment of RED. It wasn't an easy memory to come to terms with, but Medic's biomedical experiments had made me somewhat more comfortable in my own skin.

I shot a little girl. I shot a little girl and it was completely my fault.

I had been assigned to assassinate a significant political figure in Chicago during a bustling campaign rally. I did not know the purpose of the hit, but I had made a point of never asking questions. Anyway, it seemed as though I wasn't the only one who brought a gun to the lively shindig. I had just been setting up my rifle when the crack of gunfire pierced the October air, a glock of some sort I concluded, and the people in the crowd went into a terrified frenzy. In turn, I panicked as well. I had not been informed of any other contracts in the area, so I assumed someone else had death on their mind that day as well. But I needed the money, and I wasn't going to lose my target in the vast number of scattering people in the convention's audience.

I had pressed my face against the scope eagerly, double checking that the official hadn't left the stage. He was still there, shielding himself as though a bomb were about to land directly on top of him. I squeezed the trigger, slowly. Taking aim. Holding my breath.

SLAM! A door somewhere close by in the building I sat in crashed open, smashing into one of the walls. I jumped, and was too late in correcting myself. Voices in another room began shouting while I pulled my eye back from the scope, horrified by the result. My mouth fell open as I watched the tiny girl's body crumble in the mess of her own head that I had just obliterated, her mother shrieking desperately over her, falling to her knees. The target had escaped, but I no longer felt any anxiety towards that concern. I was speechless and my heart sank slowly in my chest, the color drained from my face. I had never really labeled myself a murderer until that very moment.

Murderer.

That single word echoed in my thoughts for months, resounding in my dreams, oozing from the walls. I fled to Spain, somewhere far away where I could not be found. I had always been unstable, but for months, I was no longer really a human being. I lay in my ratty bed in the shitty apartment I had rented for the entirety of my retreat, occasionally exercising to distract myself when I felt the creeping fingers of paranoia. I was emotionless, I did not communicate with anyone, and I barely ate. My skin was no longer golden from the sun and my hair was always in a sloppy brown mess.

The world was bleak and barren and my sight was hazed in regret and self-loathing. The days blurred together in one bleak slough of depression. Food had no taste, the sun bared no shine and my heart had no beat. It wasn't the cost of a young life that had eaten at me the most. A mother somewhere grieved over the loss of her daughter at the expense of an anonymous bullet. I had stolen her pride and joy, her baby, her reason for living. The look on her face was forever burned into my head, and I could never possibly forget it, no matter how successfully I managed to repress it.

After a few months or so, I realized that leaving the confines of the small town I had taken residence in was risky. So I began coming outside and visiting the markets for extended periods of time. I carried my rifle with me, as it didn't seem many people really took notice

There were hundreds of men with guns in this town. That's when the old man came to me. I still don't know how he knew of my predicament. He couldn't have heard about it all the way over in small-scale Spanish town. But I didn't question it. I was just grateful that he had even found me.

There's that. That's why I'm here.

I came here to flee my own feelings, and I was starting to regret my decision. I had merely brought back my bouts of depression. No one around me knew of this past, and no one noticed my solemn behavior at times, except for Medic.

I pulled on a tank top and red collared shirt, not bothering to button it, along with my usual khakis. Something outside rumbled angrily, causing me to pause in picking up my panama. I glanced at the window, hesitantly, unsure of what I was hearing. There it was again, guttural, booming and… it was thunder. I hurried over to the little window and placed my hands on the high sill, pressing my nose against the glass. The sky was overcast, an angry shade of gray, and there it was- lightning! I hadn't seen rain since I left Vancouver, traveling mainly to dry places in the south, aside from Illinois.

I rushed to the door, tossing my hat back on the bed, no longer needing it. I rounded the corner into the den hastily, grabbing the door frame to prevent myself from hitting the wall and embarrassing myself. Medic, Demo and Scout were all present in the den. Demo drank next to Scout who was leaning forward, watching a soccer game intently, his eyes flickering to me for only a moment. Medic sat at the table behind the sofa, looking over a few papers. He noticed me and smiled warmly, "Ah, I see you have survived all ze alcohol you were swimming in last night, yah?"

I nodded. "You as well, doctor."

"Ah, vell, yes." He glanced down quickly before meeting my eyes again. "And vhere are you heading in such a hurry?"

I scurried across the room, to the cafeteria entrance, grinning back at him. "Enjoying the weather."

Before he could say anything else, I was headed to the main exit, and swung the door open, stepping out into the dampened air. I looked around me, the rain pouring heavy as ever, sheeting off the sides of the main bridge that connected the two bases.

It was beautiful. At least it was to me, not having felt the sensation of a storm in some time. I stepped forward into the torrential downpour, holding my arms in front of me. Dark spots sprinkled my shirt, eventually evening out to soak my skin underneath, covering me in a cool, wet seal. I allowed streams of water to seep over my closed eyes, flowing over my lips and jaw, soaking my hair. I smiled in mirth, delighted in partaking in such a trivial yet exhilarating moment. Every worry I stressed over in the last year and half seemed to lift off me minute by minute.

When I was very young, maybe six or seven years old while our family lived in Quebec the first time, I remembered rainy days as vividly as any bright sunny one. Dad would wait until mom went to her meetings in the late afternoons and he would help my brother and I into our rubber boots and our little yellow raincoats, towing us by hand outside hurriedly. Mom would complain that we were going to get colds, but it never did happen. We would splash in the puddles, hopping joyously while dad would pretend to slip and fall for our own amusement. Sometimes there were rainbows and we would pretend we were painting it onto the sky, or we would contemplate innocently as to where the end was. I could almost imagine that little yellow hood over my head, the sound of my little brother's nearly-infantile giggles and screams.

Then I heard a real voice, through the rain ahead of me.

"You look like a thoughtless animal." A smooth male voice called.

I opened my eyes and looked across the bridge at the blue figure looming in the center, the tip of a cigarette glowing beside his face. My heart stopped for a moment as I gazed at the BLU Spy in contempt. I should have known he wouldn't be able to mind his own business. Were they allowed to speak to one another outside battle? Would he come over here?

"What do you want, spook?" I responded, turning my face away from him.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke almost inaudibly.

"I want you to come over here, right now, or I will do somezing terrible to you while you sleep."

I peered back at him in mild astonishment, mixed with hostility. What did he dare just say to me? I walked in his direction briskly. My heart was beating quickly, but I merely stopped inches from his face, my expression stone cold.

He chuckled, smoke seething from behind his thin lips, drawn into a grin. "You are somewhat cute when you try to look serious."

I placed my hands on my hips, not amused. I waited for him, not willing to respond to his useless statement.

He continued to smirk at me, taking a drag from his cigarette before letting the smoke back out in my face dramatically. "I couldn't resist speaking to you petit, as you look so ravishing in your ruined uniform."

He narrowed his eyes predatorily, relishing the sudden but apparent look of discomfort in my face. I tilted my head to the side, shaking my head in disgust. "So why do you fuck with all our snipers? That's just something I've been dying to know Frenchie. Did one of them make you feel like less of a man?" I cocked an eyebrow.

His sneer faltered a bit, the cigarette between his lips falling slightly. I sensed I had insulted him, he was merely too proud to show it bothered him.

"Interesting notion. However, I merely like to toy with ze idea of how vulnerable you all seem to be to me. A red target painted on your back, meant simply for my use. Ze fact zat you are woman makes it all ze more fun."

He flicked the butt of his cigarette behind me, his arm brushing against mine. My nostrils flared and my jaw clenched in irritation. I couldn't take much more of this from him.

"You are the most cowardly, delusional, stuck-up, ignorant-" I spouted, continuing with more force as his face grew livid, "-pathetic excuse for a man I have ever seen."

I was the one smirking this time as his eyes bore on me in wild frustration.

I tacked on, "Let alone a wannabe-merc."

And before I knew what was happening in a few short seconds, a thick cloud of smoke materialized to my right, and the few short clicks of a balisong followed. Two spies towered over me, eyeing one another in razor-sharp tension. No one spoke for a moment as my eyes darted between the two, registering what had just happened. The RED must have followed me out here or overheard our conversation somehow.

It took a minute for me to realize in shock that the BLU Spy had his knife drawn on me, holding it lazily in front of him, almost grazing my stomach. I peered over at the opposing spy and noticed he had his own blade out as well, pointing in the direction of the man who had tried to stab me.

"I believe you have forgotten ze established rules of zis company, mon ami." Our spook muttered, eyeing him dangerously, something I had not seen in him yet, not even in battle. His counterpart stared back with mutual distaste, every trace of humor he had once wore was completely gone. It felt as though the sky had grown darker at his words.

The BLU sneered, "Your compassion for zis child is sordid. What rules should keep me from gutting her at your feet?"

"Ze rules zat state if you kill an opponent during a ceasefire, or have physical relations wiz anyone while serving your contract, you will be forcefully removed, and your employment severed. And as I am sure you are aware, ze spawner does not work outside of battle."

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, looking at him in my peripheral. Recalling the sounds of pleasure emitting from his bedroom in the previous months tipped me off to the idea that he had been breaking some rules himself. His gaze flashed to me for only a second before he continued his focus on the Spy in front of him. I noted that his eyes were paler than the BLU Spy's. His complexion seemed somewhat darker as well. With the snap of a wrist, the BLU folded his blade, still clutching it between his gloved fingers. My teammate's face did not break its bored stare on the man. I decided to speak up instead.

"It looks as though you're a little out of line here, rat." My voice dripped with condescension.

He grabbed me by my collar, pulling me so close our noses almost touched. I felt my face redden in fury, my blood pressure spiking dangerously.

"Je vais vous faire regretter jamais mettre le pied sur ce-"

"Bonne chance avec ça!" I spat back in his face.

There was only the whisper of rainfall for a few moments as both spies stared at me in surprised silence. The rage deepened the lines in my face, and I dared not look away from his eyes in defined pride. I had intended to keep my French a secret, but his reckless attitude inclined me to defy him in some way. I clenched my jaw, my gaze daring him to say something back, to pitifully attempt at any last word in our scuffle. His anger almost matched mine, only his was more out of embarrassment at what I fool I had made of him. He slowly loosened his grip, eyes seething, and took a step back. He pulled his cigarette case from his pocket without breaking his stare and put one to lips, studying me. I didn't move.

"Mark my words, cherie."

And with that, he vanished, along with the glow of his newly-lit cigarette. I made a sort of disgruntled noise, eyes remaining on the spot he had vanished within. Thunder rolled over us, following a white flash of lightning that lit up our base, casting harsh shadows behind every wooden beam and structure, for only a split second. I could no longer enjoy the storm, knowing that BLU freak was probably staring at me right now, that boiling gaze boring into me, unknowingly.

I turned to my teammate, but he was no longer standing beside me. I swiveled around and saw him walking back towards the base in the rain, his left arm held over his head. I took a few quick steps behind him.

"Why did you do that?" I called over the harsh downpour.

He paused and turned to me slowly. "Do what?"

"Watch me. You were watching me and you stopped that mongrel from stabbing me to death."

His gaze was fierce but calm all at once as he watched me for a moment, not speaking. I walked towards him and back into the rain, stopping in front of him. He too was becoming soaked by the second, only clad in his white button up. I could see his sleeveless undershirt through the drenched cotton fabric.

"Can you not just accept my courtesy and drop it?" He lowered his arm, realizing it was pointless, as his balaclava had no chance of remaining dry. He didn't look thoughtful or happy, but annoyed.

I didn't know what to say to him as I felt disappointment leap into my chest. I frowned at him, unappreciative of his attitude. "I just wondered. I guess…thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"No. I didn't. And perhaps I should have just minded my own business."

Before I could respond, he turned around and started toward the door again. I stood there, watching him, the intensity of my disapproval rising. And I think… I think my heart cringed a little. I wouldn't know. I don't know what the emotion of love feels like in an adult life bred of savagery and contempt such as my own. This was no existence to contemplate things such as the heart and its musings. I would save that for when my name was cleared, and my body unable to do what I was once a professional at. But, realistically? I had no time for love at all. I don't think I ever will. I remained in the downpour, the sound of the thunder echoing my emotions back to me in a rumbled pattern of despondency.

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**Let me know watcha think! -cheesy grin-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeeeyyy! And the moment has arrived This chapter contains some of the promised sex I'll be including in this story. There will be a bit later, it's not really planned, but I know I'm gonna want more in there. This is important to me. I've never really included sex in any of my stories, so I'd loooove some feedback on it. I'd also like to hear any ideas. Where do _you_ think this story is headed? I'm not promising I'll pick any suggestions, but I'm interested in what you all think as readers. Don't be shy!**

**EDITED: Well, so stories are being taken down left and right, and I regret to say the sex scene here isn't very explicit anymore. I truly apologize to those who made here after the edit. I just don't want my whole story taken down because one scene was too dirty. :l  
**

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"Mission begins in sixty seconds."

I reached back and tightened my braid. The resupply room was a tad muggy due to the heat outside. We all dispersed in a wave at the announcer's voice, everyone taking positions by the base exits, readying weapons in anticipation. I took a position upstairs, standing by the sliding metal door. We had been using the front of the base more often for intelligent-based missions, per instructions from the Administrator. A sometimes-nervous sounding woman named Miss Pauling would call the base phone instructing us if changes in location were required, and I had been the one to answer the call last night.

Shoving a few extra bullets into my vest pocket, I then cocked my gun loudly, inspecting it. Pyro made his way up the hallway from the resupply room, Heavy lumbering behind him with his minigun, Medic following. I was rubbing a smudge lovingly from the end of the barrel of my rifle when someone prodded my shoulder. I glanced up, looking into the dark sockets of Pyro's mask. He was holding something in front of him, what looked like a shield with two batteries taped to the front of it. Looking from the item back up to his masked face, I tried to make sense of what he was trying to show me.

"What's this?"

"Mmmph mmb nnf!" He held it towards me with emphasis.

"It's protection against spies." Medic translated with a smile, peering from behind Heavy.

I took it indifferently, examining the wires that ran across the surface. There was a strap hanging from the backside and I pulled it over my head, unsure if I was wearing it correctly. Pyro began rambling again in the speech I only sometimes understood. I peered back at the Medic once more, questioningly.

He squeezed past Heavy, who seemed to be infatuated with a scratch he had just noticed on his gun ("Is dis?- Da!").

"It's a Razorback, meine Freundin. It seem as zo he ordered zis for you."

A newfound gratefulness crept up me as I glanced back to my fire-proofed friend. He had spent his own money on me, for my protection. My sight had been blinded the entire time I had been here by my own significant worries, and I had failed to realize that people on this base actually looked out for me. Almost like a family would.

My eyes lit up and I grasped Pyro in a strong embrace, knowing well that he loved appreciation, especially in the form of hugging. Not the kind you begged for through bragging. The little guy just wanted to make people happy, and that's why he was my favorite person here. I heard him laugh joyously and he hugged me back as I smiled at Medic from his shoulder. He adjusted his glasses, returning the amused grin.

"Three…two…one!"

The metal doors around both bases slid up quickly, unleashing a volley of running men, dirt clouding along each threshold. I swiveled around, rifle turned up in hand and dashed out the exit with my teammates behind me. The sun poured through the wooden blockades ahead of us. I ran to the left, shuffling sideways as I quickly pressed my eye into the scope, taking note of my readied opposition who was crouching in the opposite corner of the BLU base. I took fire. He was really good, because my near hit didn't seem to faze him. Concentrated, he was.

"INCOMING!"

I dove back to my right as an ill-placed rocket smashed into the wall behind me, but almost immediately re-engaging the Sniper ahead of me. One of his bullets knicked my left shoulder. Snipers knew the mannerisms of other Snipers. So a battle between two can inevitably drag on in a spray of wasted ammo, unless one decides to engage at a closer distance. I was just the type to do so.

I ran and jumped onto the window sill and jumped down from the second story. This was obviously something he wasn't used to. He lowered his rifle, watching me before Demoman appeared, smashing the back of his head in with a bottle of Scrumpy. He gave cheers before taking a long swig.

I backed into the base once more on the ground floor, still peering through my scope, efficiently taking out their Pyro and Scout. I sat in the shade facing the sun-blazen battlefield, eyes on the enemy's exits. Scout and Soldier ran past me, the former dropping into the water beneath the bridge. I waited for a target to appear, remaining steady in my position. There was a sharp cry to my left. The enemy Heavy appeared as Engineer fell to the ground, Medic following closely behind him, attached by the blue beam between the two. I fired only once before the Heavy unleashed a wave of bullets upon me and I doubled over onto the ground below me in pain, but quickly passing through death.

"The enemy has taken our intelligence!"

I re-adjusted my eyesight after respawn, rubbing my tingling forehead as sweat dispersed across it. I then shook it off and ran to the resupply cabinet, jamming things in my vest, followed quickly by Engineer who lugged his toolkit out. He looked around momentarily for Pyro, who didn't respawn, meaning he had survived an attack Engie had not. I paused at the door, not sure if I should help defend him while he worked for a moment, or go for our moving intelligence.

After a second or two had passed, I beckoned him. "Follow me!"

He didn't debate and was behind me as I ran through the doorway and towards the intelligence room. We rushed hastily down the ramped hallway, unprepared for my bodily collision with the trespasser. It was of course, the BLU Scout. Engineer smacked into my backside, his hardhat flying off his head in the process. The Scout had his bat in hand as he splayed across the floor opposite me. I inhaled deeply, resulting from having the wind knocked out of me. Still, I pulled on the handle of my kukri within seconds as the Scout sprung up after regaining his own composure. He swung the bat above his head and it came down with a loud crunch onto the engineer's head, but he hadn't anticipated my counterattacking immediately. I slashed his chest, cutting both straps of the carrier he loaded the briefcase onto his back with. He cried out in agony as the intelligence fell to the ground and I lunged forward, grabbing it with my free hand through the pool of blood forming at my adversary's feet. I barreled down the hallway, stumbling foolishly.

I made it to the intelligence room unscathed and threw the luggage onto the desk, out of breath.

"Our intelligence has returned to the base. We have taken the enemy intelligence."

I wiped sweat from my forehead before jogging through the opposite doorway, my SMG in hand. I was glad I wasn't relied on heavily to handle intelligence. I couldn't do much more of that today.

After a stop at the resupply room again, I headed up the steps. Before I had even reached the landing, I heard something shift behind me. I almost swung around to fire my weapon, but stopped in surprisingly quick judgement. There was that other side of me. I grinned maliciously.

And of course, within a few quick seconds, the impact of a knife jarred my new toy. The surprised Frenchman cried out in suffering as the electrical current jolted through his body. I turned in time to see him fall backwards down the steps before he managed to brace his arm outwards, stopping himself mid-roll down the staircase. He was breathing erratically as I approached him slowly, opting for my rifle. I held the tip of it to his forward. He eyed me furiously, still regaining his senses from the shock.

"If you're gonna threaten me spook, I need you hold more promise than this."

With that I blew his head away in one powerful shot at close-range. Why had I finished him off and not the bleeding Scout? I think we all know why.

The rest of the battle went very unexpectedly. We did really, almost unbelievably well, in our K/D ratio and the speed and ease of which we managed to get our hands on the intelligence. I took down threat after threat, mostly from upstairs, occasionally making it to the resupply room.

I had removed my over-shirt, and the sunlight was burning my shoulders angrily. I'd gotten into it again with the male Sniper opposite me, placing my feet carefully as I dodged all of his shots. He did the same for some time, until he lowered the gun from his face and seemed to stare right at me through his glasses. My finger twitched on the trigger as I watched warily. His mouth curved into a smile. What was he doing?

I didn't move as I watched, chaos ringing all around me. He pointed down, then pulled his SMG out and proceeded to enter his base.

"Whaddaya doin' woman?" Scout blurted in my face as he passed on his way towards Resupply.

I lowered my rifle, snapping out of my contemplation. Not answering him, I made my way back into the base, dropping to the first floor and taking the stairwell down to the tunnels.

"We have dropped the enemy's intelligence!" The loudspeaker boomed.

Wielding my kukri, I sloshed into the water, now walking calmly along the narrow passage. I heard someone ahead of me and held my blade high above me, anticipating the BLU Spy for a moment. But I was only somewhat relieved to see the BLU Sniper instead. He wore that same smile I had gazed at through my scope. I approached him slowly and stopped a few feet in front of him. He held his team's briefcase in his hand. I glared almost disgustedly. "What do you want?" My eyes looked from his face to the intelligence and back.

He held the arm attached to the briefcase behind him slightly, sensing my intentions.

"I've just come ta' ask yeh somethin'."

I had never talked to the jar man in person, merely a few shouted taunts here and there from across the battlefield. His voice was quite nice at a normal level. I somehow trusted him. Or at least my palms didn't get sweaty when I was close to him.

"Well go ahead." I place my free hand on my hip.

He chuckled at my typical attempt at being serious. "I thought maybe with that good aim of yours you'd be interested in joining me on a trip to a championship in tha next town ova'."

At first I couldn't tell if this were a suggestion or a request. I couldn't help but smile a little back, amused by his boldness. I didn't think he was a very forward kinda guy.

"Join you?"

He scratched the back of his head with the tip of his gun. "Well yeah. Unless you wanna convince a few 'a your friends ta come along."

"Otherwise…" I responded, waving my hand around. I was enjoying myself.

"Yes." He sighed. "Otherwise it'd be just you an' me."

I walked toward him, and snatched the case from his hands, my face dangerously close to his. "When is this happening exactly?"

"We have the enemy intelligence."

He grabbed the briefcase back from me. "A week from today."

"We have lost the enemy intelligence!"

I sneered. "Let me think on it Jarate-man. I may just go on your little date."

His eyes narrowed but he didn't protest when I took the briefcase back and walked back up the tunnels with it.

-Line-

It was dinner time, thankfully. I mean really thankfully, my stomach was about to cave in and eat itself. We had won the battle thanks to me, but also the BLU Sniper. However, I kept this last part to myself. I sat at one of the tables in the cafeteria behind the den, inspecting the table under my arms contemplatively. I was also especially tired today. Mondays did that to me. The room was silent aside from the Scout's chatter on the couch. I don't think he was talking to anyone in particular.

Everyone was happy with me today due to my efforts in battle. I always did well in intelligence missions, but of course, today was just a little different than most. I also couldn't help but to think about Spy's mysterious behavior yesterday. The more I recalled it, the more irritated I became. He acted as though he were embarrassed to have helped me out. I didn't understand where pride came in when you saved a teammate. He was just doing something I would have done for any of the men in this base.

My thoughts were interrupted by their subject. I could hear the Frenchman's soft footsteps coming from the hall behind me as he emerged from the showers. I didn't turn around to face him as he circled the table I sat at and stepped into the kitchen to my right. I smiled. Pyro was in there making everyone dinner again, and he didn't want anyone walking in on him. It was supposed to be a surprise. As expected, I heard several loud mumbles emit from the room, and Spy stumbled back, more than likely threatened by fire. He cursed in French under his breath, saying he would come back for his own food.

God. He was only wearing that white undershirt along with his slacks and shoes. He still had his gloves and balaclava on of course. I lowered my head, attempting to focus on something else besides the muscles and broad shoulders on the lean man in front of me. I couldn't seem to control my emotions at the moment. Scout and Heavy began having an argument in front of the television.

I didn't look up for a few moments. My forehead was pressed against my forearm, nose touching the table. I merely eavesdropped on the silly scuffle through the next doorway, waiting until I was alone in my little area. I was counting down from twenty slowly in my head before I silently lifted my face from the table.

Of course he still stood there, watching me through half-lidded eyes. He stood propping himself against the table with one hand. The muscles in his arm were illuminated in the light, shadows casting along every tensed curve. I lifted my eyes to him, staring at him from under my brows, "What?"

He smirked, a cigarette hanging from his mouth lazily. "I said nothing, ma cherie. You just seem distracted."

"Yeah?" I frowned. "And what's it to you? Thought you were trying to mind your own business."

He slid a finger along the table very slowly, rotating around me. "I was quite rude to you yesterday. I was curious as to how I may make you feel more at ease."

My heart stopped for a moment as he got uncharacteristically close to me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I felt his presence from behind my back. I couldn't bring myself to turn toward him as I fought the blood that was trying to rush to my face. I think it was too late for that, though. The young girl in me always won these battles of embarrassment. I wondered if he was trying to talk me up so I wouldn't reveal his secret sexcapades.

"What-", I swallowed as words failed at first, "W-what are you trying to do, creep?"

He chuckled darkly, inaudible to our other teammates. "Nothing harmful I assure you. Just trying to be more friendly my dear."

I seriously doubted this and sighed in my own torture as I listened to him exit the room almost silently. I could hardly even focus on Pyro when he came out of the kitchen and approached me excitedly, lowering something down in front of me. I peered down, eyebrows raising. "Damn."

Scout and Heavy both looked towards me quickly and stumbled over one another as they made their way towards my table. They both eyed the food greedily, offering their own claims of excitement. Before me lay a freshly caught fish, cut open and seasoned very carefully. I didn't question where the fish came from. Then, he returned with another plate and an unopened bottle of red wine.

Scout watched as Pyro put the other plate in front of him. He glanced at the bottle our masked comrade placed next to me and lunged forward, "Aye what, we getting' hammered again, I could use-"

Pyro responded with a firm "Mmph!" and shoved the boy back in his seat. "Hmmph nn mmm!"

And so I shamefully admit that I drank almost an entire bottle of wine to myself, as offered by Pyro. Not that I really wanted to get drunk, I just felt bad denying his gift. He did so much for me already, I wanted him to see my appreciation. I would have to pay him back somehow.

After a late dinner with a few men from the team, I had already hugged the fire-wielder a number of times, as wine made me especially giggly, a smile never leaving my face. I stumbled back to my room after taking my dishes to the kitchen, dragging my hand on the wall to support myself in case I fell. I was sniggering at something Demo had said at the table. We had both blubbered nonsense at one another before Soldier called us a bunch of drunk wussies and ruined our fun. Fucking tight-ass.

I stopped outside my room, swaying, and lit a cigarette clumsily. After putting my hand on the doorknob, I glanced sideways towards Spy's closed bedroom, thoughts clicking away hazily. I opened my door and closed it, immediately removing my pants, catching myself when I tripped over them. Moonlight poured through the window onto my mattress, the bed inviting me to pass out.

When I flopped myself onto it, I pulled the covers over me, facing the ceiling and listening to my own heartbeat. I made an attempt at closing my eyes, but something was tugging at my thoughts, keeping me from sleep. The haze in my mind was bringing forth suggestive imagery and I was having trouble suppressing it. It felt as though someone were whispering things to me and I waved my arm around beside me, wary of spies. I was just drunk though, and the imagination runs wild under the influence of alcohol. I puffed on my cigarette. I'd forgotten about that. It would be me who would burn the base down due to sleeping with a cigarette.

My heart twisted in discomfort inside me as I fought the urge to do something far too bold, something I would most likely regret. My arms and legs slid into a different position as I groaned at my lack of self-control. My hair was down and tickling the sides of my face as I lay deep in thought, and indecision. No. I couldn't. But God, can't a working girl have just a little fun every now and then? That was the wine talking, draining every bit of professionalism from me.

I pictured that Red figure towering over me, grinning at my embarrassment, getting off at the thought of making me uneasy. I thought of the moans and whimpers that emitted from his room once or twice weekly, taunting me. I frowned, imagining the nameless, faceless women beneath him, objects of his use. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand it, but my body was saying otherwise.

Lifting myself off the bed, I made my way across in the room, and it felt like only a second before I was standing before the spook's bedroom. I was only dressed in my tanktop and panties, the wine making me unashamed. I didn't care, as long as Scout didn't appear to molest me.

I only had to stand there for a minute before I heard a voice emit softly from the other side. "Come in."

The shivers came again as I pushed the door open, standing at the threshold for a few moments. He lie on his own bed, a book in front of him, his legs crossed. He eyed me, beginning from my feet up to my face. He maintained a serious expression as he placed the book beside of him. I closed the door, looking at my feet self-consciously, and hiccupped.

"Too drunk to get dressed, petit?" He lifted himself from the mattress and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, head cocked to the side.

I didn't speak. Staring at him mutely, I pressed my cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table next to me. He had furnished his room in polished wood, a desk lamp illuminating the side of his face. But the accessories of his bedroom was not what pulled at my attention. He stood, tall and slender, and approached me slowly.

He stopped a few inches from me, tilting his head once more as I struggled to stare into his sly blue eyes without shivering. I still upheld my frustration with him, but I couldn't help but take a step back, forgetting the door was behind me.

"Did you need company? It sounds awfully lonely over in zat room of yours."

Butterflies form hell raged in my stomach as he leaned forward, pressing both of his gloved hands against the door on either side of my head, slowly. He savored the red that crept up my neck and face. There was no hiding it from him. I swallowed, returning his gaze lustily. It was so overwhelming, the feeling of need that washed over me, over and over again. I wanted to wrap my arms around his strong shoulders, but my pride kept me from making a move.

I opened my mouth to say something back, but decided against it as a nervous lump formed in my throat. His smirk deepened and I didn't think he could get any closer to me. His lips ghosted over mine, teeth bared in a superior grin, nose brushing against mine daringly.

"What is it? Cat got your tongue, cherie? Tell me. I want hear what you have to say."

I exhaled shakily, looking from his lips to his eyes hungrily, bitterly.

"Fuck off, spook." I managed to breath against him.

His smile faded as his eyes bore into mine silently. And then something in him snapped at my words and he lunged forward, his mouth crushing against mine. I pushed back equally, breathing heavily as I pressed both hands on the sides of his face, clawing at his mask. He forced himself against me, pinning me to door as his hands flattened my arms against the wooden surface, pressing my wrists down above me. This was not going to take very long.

My hips bucked against his, not of my own will and he groaned quietly. He had to pull away for a moment so we could both breathe and I put my hands on his shoulders, jumping up. He caught my legs which hooked around his hips wantonly. His face buried in the crook of my neck as small breathy sounds emerged from me, savoring every nip and brush of his tongue against my hot skin.

It took me a moment to realize he was backing up, still holding my weight with his tightly gloved hands. There was a writing desk in the far right corner of the room and he held me by the waist with one arm as his other pushed everything off the surface in a flurry of papers and writing utensils. He propped me on the desk and slid his hands hungrily up my thighs as our tongues danced in a violent kiss once more. I let every frustration he had ever caused me rise inside as I wrestled with him, my arms wrapped around his neck. With one quick movement, he grabbed my panties in one gloved fist and tore them off me, no problem. Oh good lord. Reckless or not, I was so relieved I had decided to intrude on his reading. I needed this.

He placed his hands on my sides, gently lowering me as he kneeled, face between my legs. Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my. My back arched as I inhaled sharply, the sensation driving me wild. I couldn't stop myself from clawing at his balaclava as he continued his work, not sparing any rough-play. I almost cried out, biting my lip harshly. This experience had already surpassed every sexual encounter with any man I had previously met. He continued this over and over, his eyes watching me for only a few moments as I bucked and moaned, feeding off my reactions.

"Just do it already, please." I begged in a low voice.

"Hmm?" He responded from between my legs, going harder and teasing me further.

"AHH!" I yelped, covering my mouth before whispering. "Spy, please."

He raised his head questioningly, but his eyes were menacing. "I'm sorry, ma cher, you will have to specify what it is you want me to do."

I gazed down at him pleadingly, upset with his stopping. I didn't want to really say it. I had never been in a situation so- spontaneous. I didn't want to sound like one of those fake girls, screaming and shouting things they obviously didn't mean. But I meant it. And I wanted it. My pride would have to sit this one out.

"Just fuck me already." My head dropped against the desk again and I closed my eyes.

With that, he chuckled intimidatingly and wrapped an arm around my waist, the other hand grasping my shoulder and he flipped me around impatiently, tossing me like a ragdoll. I dropped back onto the desk, face down and my heart-rate began to speed up again. I gripped the edge of the desk in front of me as I heard him undo his pants as quickly as possible. When I saw both gloved hands slam on either side of me, my heart skipped a few beats in anticipation. He wasn't planning on "making love" to me, that was for sure in an instant.

* * *

I lie on the desk, wheezing and unmoving for a few moments as the last waves of my climax washed over me. That was incredible- no other word did it justice. He knew every move, every spot, and it was all so powerful. I smiled silently to myself, feeling beads of sweat trickling lazily down the sip of my spine. I don't mean to sound too crude, but- I believe he had fucked me sober. He stepped back and sat on his bed after zipping his pants back up, still recovering from our impulsive sex adventure.

I lifted myself from the desk as he lit a cigarette, taking a long, pleased drag from it. Looking down at my ruined clothes, I smoothed my knotted, frizzy hair back the best I could.

"My compliments, petit." He murmured without looking at me.

I glanced at him, smiling slightly. "That surprises me you would say that, considering how one-sided it was."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "The pleasure eez all mine."

I bit my lip as he looked up at me, his eyes smoldering in satisfaction and left-over lust. I stepped towards him, removing the cigarette from his mouth and puffed on it myself. It looked as though he had removed his own shirt in the process of taking me and my eyes swept over his glistening muscles. We stared at one another as I slowly placed his cig back in his lips. Moments passed us, watching one another almost threateningly, viciously.

After the cigarette was out, he slammed me down on the bed and climbed over top of me. We did it again. Twice. I'll could never possibly forget a second of it.

* * *

**Laaaaaaame.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry this took so long to upload! I was fighting with my summer exams, then MvM came out, so I sorta backtracked and fixed it up for the new release. Even though I haven't gotten to actually play it. I don't wait an hour on a match in any game, homie. **

**Anyway, I'm trying to keep these chapters long so you don't have to wait so long for so little. Oh and I don't want anyone to worry about the story being too different with the robots being involved and whatnot. All crucial relationships and emotional issues, yada yada yada, are still rolling and in place. The story goes on as before, with some modifications. **

**This seems like a nice place to tuck in a Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fiction besides the OC. They belong to Valve o'course!**

* * *

I sat outside in the warm sunset with my feet dangling carelessly from the upper-story of the base, twisting my hands nervously. The sky was magnificent. Shades of gold, pink and purple circled the clouds, casting a warm glow over the now-vacant battlefield. I had made a habit of coming outside in the evenings after battle to contemplate. Every day had presented to me such a beautiful view. Ever since that night. Brief flashbacks of moaning and bodies grinding against one another in a passionate frenzy would drift through my thoughts spontaneously throughout the week. It was so amazingly unbelievable that I would inevitably space out from reality when thinking about it.

At the moment however, I was torn in indecision once more. The BLU Sniper's offer had still stood. I had the opportunity to be surrounded by men and women who knew the ups and downs of my field, along with a somewhat familiar face. I also reminded myself that he said I could bring friends along. However, I knew telling the whole team I'd be going on a day-trip with the enemy could provoke some pretty negative reactions. I could always single out one person who might understand. I liked the BLU and all, but I would prefer if someone accompanied me to…save some awkwardness.

But who? I couldn't ask Spy. I had a hard time even looking at him with a straight face now. I either blushed until my cheeks and neck nearly burned or I would get this stupid embarrassed grin. He didn't seem very amused. He would merely look away boredly, sipping on tea or whatever the fuck French people drank. I imagined he was merely sparing himself the humorous verbal attacks of our squad had they managed to figure it out.

It had to be someone who liked me in particular. Someone who would just want to get out of the base. Someone-

"Aye you, what's happenin'?"

-like Scout.

I turned, beaming up at him in grateful surprise. "Scout!"

"Yeahh." He crouched and sat beside me. "Thas my name, don't wear it out sweet cheeks."

I leaned back, bracing my arms behind me. The boy really was very handsome. If only he would focus more of his time and energy in learning how to use his looks, rather than running his mouth. I shook my head and gazed back at the opposing base. How to word this.

"So", he started before I could open my mouth, "You an' the Spy huh?"

I froze, and the expression I had previously wore on my face slowly slid down. Did I just hear him correctly?

"What did you say?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I ain't deaf you know."

I continued to stare at him, unable to comprehend how he had managed to gather that. He must have heard us in the Spy's room. There was no other option on that one, and I felt my face heat up characteristically. I looked back down at my feet, defeated.

"You're not gonna tell anyone…are you?"

The boy looked off above the roof of the BLU base, wrapping his arms around his knees casually. "Nah. I ain't tellin'. They're hard on us for fraterniz- fratnaz-…_frat_-"

"Fraternization?"

"Yeah!" He looked at me before continuing to stare off, "Wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

I studied him, determining whether or not he would really keep his promise. I didn't know what to say to him except a quiet thank you.

"Try not to wreck the furniture next time, an' I might not hear ya", he teased. I shot a look at him, but couldn't help but grin myself, still blushing from the realization. Then there was my own question.

"_So_…I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in making a trip out of town with me."

I went ahead and laid it on him, too impatient to wait.

He looked over at me. "Trip? Where?"

I shrugged. "There's this sniping competition in the next town I thought about going to tomorrow."

I watched the idea click away in the boy's mind. I figured it wouldn't take him long, considering he was probably experiencing cabin fever worse than the rest of us. After a moment of thought, he grinned and nodded. "Yeah. I could go f'some time off. The guys'll love it."

I bit my lip. I hoped with everything in me that his reaction to what I was about to tell him wouldn't catch the attention of anyone who may be around.

"Well, see, the boys aren't comin'. We're going…" I cleared my throat before exhaling as I spoke, "-we're going with the BLU Sniper."

Scout's face twisted in confusion and disapproval. "Why the _hell_ would we do dat? Are you fuckin' crazy? You bangin 'im too or somethin'?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Scout. Please don't make this a bigger deal than it is. I know how it looks but you have to understand that I haven't been able to talk to people who understand me in…so long, I can't even remember."

He eyed me, unsure if what I was saying were true or if I was just working him up to it. "What? So you think you're so special dat no-one here understands you?"

My head turned sharply as I took in what he said guiltily. "No! I-" He raised his eyebrows as I spoke, "-I just meant that as a Sniper, he might know well what I've went through, along with the people at this convention, or competition or whatever.

"Yeah? And why bring me?" He folded his arms over his chest.

I turned back to stare ahead of me. This wasn't really going how I had intended it to. I worked the question over in my mind, attempting to find an answer that would satisfy him enough to actually want to go. After a few moments, it hit me. Of course. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner?

I scooted closer to him and folded my hands in my lap, looking down at my dangling feet innocently.

"Ya know. Wouldn't want that sniper all alone with little ol' me." I peered up at him with wide eyes. He seemed taken aback for a moment, not used to my vulnerability, especially towards him. Then that sharp smile pulled up the side of his mouth cockily and he put an arm around my shoulder, jostling me slightly. It worked.

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it toots. Dat geezer ain't gonna lay a finger on ya while I'm around."

For a moment I felt the urge to shove him away from me. Instead, I relaxed, knowing that the boy wasn't going to do anything harmful or inappropriate. He had that opportunity when I was blacked out, but he didn't take it. I knew for a fact now that Scout truly wanted to protect me, and his main priority was no longer getting into my pants. A tear almost escaped my eye as I recalled Pyro's gifts, Medic's worrying about me, Spy getting in the face of an opponent outside of battle over me, and many other instances where my teammates showed they cared. I didn't know where my family was now or what they were doing, but I know they no longer wanted me because of what I've become. But these men, they didn't care what I was. My new family. My boys.

I couldn't stop myself as my shoulders shook, and I placed one hand over my face, hiding in embarrassment. Scout's expression changed to mild panic as he lifted his arm from me hesitantly. His face lowered near mine in concern. "Hey. Hey, what'sa matter? Why ya cryin'?"

I couldn't speak without a crack in my voice so I merely allowed myself to look him in the face and smiled, shaking my head as tears dropped from my chin. But the waterworks only came harder as I pictured my absent family, and then the new one I had somehow been blessed with. I didn't deserve to be treated this way. Murderers didn't deserve a family. Scout turned towards me and wrapped his arms around me, allowing me to press my face into his chest and sob relentlessly. He pressed his cheek against the top of my head and rocked back and forth, mimicking what his ma would do when one of his brothers would hit him too hard as kids.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's alright. Sometimes ya just gotta cry it out. I cry when I just don't know what ta do anymore, too." He thought over this remark for a long moment before adding- "But don't tell no one that."

* * *

Later on that night, I had filled my belly with more of Pyro's delightful home-cooked dinners. I was sitting on the couch, rubbing my stomach greedily while Soldier rambled on about one of his war-stories. What remained of the team after dinner sat around me, painfully enduring the tale, as soldier would most likely blast us for interrupting. Sun-Tzu style. I knew this because getting stuck in the middle of the veteran's stories happened far too often.

"-and then I TOOK that damn college degree from his hands and BEAT him to _DEATH_ with it!"

There were a few muttered "huh"s and "yeah"s from around the room and I could see Engineer slowly slipping out into the hallway behind Soldier, escaping the situation quietly. Demoman was singing quietly to himself in front of us, apparently unaware of anything going on around him. He hiccupped obnoxiously.

Scout nodded from across the room, "Yeah, nice story chucklenuts."

Soldier snapped his attention to the boy, stabbing a finger in his direction, "YOU WOULDN'T KNOW MANLINESS IF IT KICKED YOU IN THE JIMMY, BOY."

Scout's face dropped, but before he could say anything, Medic stood up and cut him off, "Ja, ja. Ve all know how you handle your situations, Dummkopf. Like a 'true American'." He was referring to Soldier, who was now standing straight up from his seat next to me on the sofa. I looked up at him from under my panama.

"I WILL NOT SIT AND LISTEN TO YOU SISSIES PATRONIZE ME LIKE A BAFFOON. I'M GOING TO GO DO CHIN-UPS ON THE ROOF, IF YOU WERE SMART, YOU WOULD COME WATCH HOW IT'S DONE LADIES."

When no one responded to his advice, he proceeded to burst through the exit like a rabid animal. He had several episodes like this a week. I shook my head and sat up as the rattled door slowly shut itself. Something told me the majority of his war stories were untrue. Then there was that other part of me who wouldn't be surprised at all if they were.

I had grown tired from a full stomach. Going to sleep early for the coming Sniping competition sounded like a good idea. Demoman sat forward as well, a bottle of Scrumpy sloshing in his swinging hand, and began trying to convince the others to match shots with him. As I was exiting, I caught Spy's eye from the chair he sat in at the opposite corner of the room. My heart jumped but I refused to look away immediately as he bore a hole in me with his half-lidded gaze. I responded with a smile and turned back towards the hallway. I caught the grin that pulled at the side of his mouth, of which a slender cigarette hung from.

I hadn't spoken with him. But my stomach still did that fluttering thing when he was around as I pictured us on that desk, that bed. Unspoken and virtually unheard of, we kept the same distance we had previous to that night. It was probably more wise to keep private matters private. We didn't want to risk our jobs.

I said goodnight to my coworkers and continued to my room, rubbing my eyes wearily. After I had changed and washed up, I curled up in the covers and enjoyed the soft mattress that cradled me lovingly. I had invested in a new bed and I could say it was the best purchase I had made in years.

Sleep was coming easily, heavily. I had to say, I wasn't thrilled by the images that rushed through my mind throughout the night. _I pictured my parents, my brother, all sitting as though they were posing for a portrait. The room we occupied was covered in red velvet. I spotted something to my left and saw the RED Spy, hugging the corner of the room, staring aimlessly through the air ahead of him. All was silent, but I sensed a roar of wind, coming from somewhere._

_As I stepped forward towards my parents, my brother held up a finger. Was he pointing at me? I turned on my heel, but my bones felt suddenly too heavy to maneuver properly. I was caught in a gust of air and smoke, my hair billowing back as I squinted my eyes, fearful of being blinded. And then the BLU Spy leapt through the clouds of dust and seized me by the throat, his eyes viscious and hungry, like a wild animal. I crashed to the ground painfully_, but woke before anything progressed.

I was groggy, and it really had only felt like a few moments had passed. There had been no nightmares such as this in my previous weeks of sleep. I had a lot of feelings, but sleep conjured nothing of it. I inhaled deeply, attempting to comfort myself.

Suddenly, I became aware of something on my hip, someone's hand. Was that there a moment ago? My body tensed, but someone cut me off before I could speak or even think of moving.

"Ma cherie, eet is okay. It's just me."

His gloved fingers moved up to pull a few strands of hair behind my ear. I relaxed a little, but I couldn't help but feel a bit shocked, simply by the fact that he was here, of his own accord.

Slowly, I lowered my head back to my pillow, now fully aware. "I'm sorry. I just…I didn't think you'd come here."

He chuckled, still running his fingers through my hair, "How could I not? I see the way you think, when you sit by me and your leetle cheeks turn red as your uniform. "

In response, I smiled silently to myself, unsure of what I should say next. I wasn't very good at this sort of thing. I wasn't even completely sure what I might consider this little…thing that was happening. I was starting to think as far as blushing goes, I was the most predictable woman in the world.

"Well." I spoke quietly at last. "What do you want exactly?"

For a moment, it was he who did not speak at first. His hand paused it's caressing of my hair. I sensed him thinking deeply. So he was concerned with what to say too. It flattered me to think that I wasn't the only one who stumbled across their thoughts in search of a response.

I waited for him. I can't say I really knew what to expect from him. After a few moments, I was unsure if he simply didn't know what to say, or if I had made him uneasy for some reason. How could he expect me not to ask why he mysteriously appears in my room, petting me and acting lovey? It was unpredictable, and yet, I suppose spies were like that for a reason. They pranced around with their masks, and their vanishing acts like they owned the place.

"Do you really want to know?"

I snapped out of my line of thought and tilted my head to the side, not looking directly at his face, but acknowledging him. I nodded quietly in response. Of course I wanted to know, any girl would ask the same question. His hand moved from my hair and I felt his fingers on my chin gently, as though he were afraid he would break me.

"_Because_, petit-" he pulled my face around to see him clearly. My heart stopped. This wasn't the spy I had in mind at all, this entire time. I was forced to remain still by something close to my neck as I stared at him, startled.

His blue-clad hand held a knife against my throat with emphasis, threatening to press harder if I yelled.

"-somebody forgot to lock their door."

Of course. He would come in the one night I had neglected to lock it, which was something I did rarely. He must have tried getting in before, and I shuddered to imagine him, creeping just meters away behind my door as I slept obliviously. I swallowed and attempted to collect myself and mask any fear that may have shown. He had placed the hand that was once on my chin over my mouth, forcefully might I add. I didn't move. I just watched him, hate burning in my eyes. I was too vulnerable. What he was doing was wrong, not to mention cowardly.

"My dear, I am afraid you have underestimated me, wouldn't you agree?" He pretended to look worried for a moment, but couldn't hold back the malicious grin that pulled at his lips. He was too close to me. I wanted him off the bed, pointing a gun at my head, anything else. He didn't seem to notice this or care though. That's when I realized he was only in his waistcoat and shirt, and wreaked of alcohol. How had I managed to overlook this?

I drew my eyebrows together. I was fearful of losing my life to this maniac, but I wasn't scared of him in particular. I wouldn't let him undermine my subconscious, which he had no doubt sensed was unstable. There would be no doubt in assuming he had more than likely been watching me, cloak and dagger-ready.

He shifted so that his hands were in the same spot, but his masked face was now over me, a strong shadow sillhouetting the right side of his face.

"You wish to know why I treat you cowards as I do?" He breathed on me, making me wince. "You really want to know what drives me to plan out ways to murder you on a daily basis?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to him under the circumstances, whether or not I was really expected to answer. I watched him carefully, not daring to blink as the cool blade of his balisong pushed against me uncomfortably. Our gazes met for quite a few moments as I realized he was sweating, from what I wasn't sure.

He lowered his face even closer to mine, the stubble from his chin grazing against me as he began to speak into my ear.

But I didn't get to hear the extent of what he said to me, as a voice burst throughout the room, making both of us freeze.

"Alert! Everyone meet in the basement of the RED base, IMMEDIATELY. _THIS IS NOT A TEST_!"

The familiar voice cut off as quickly as it had manifested. I could hear beds sqeaking faintly and what sounded like Scout's voice groaning with irritated emphasis. It must have been the middle of the night, for everyone was still up when I had retired to sleep. I looked from the small speaker in the corner of my bedroom, back to my attacker, who met my eyes indifferently. He did not release me. Instead he leaned back into my face, his sloped nose pressing aggresively against mine, "You will not say a word, or I will kill one of zem before I come after you, mademoiselle. I zink you know exactly who I will choose, non?"

I furrowed my brow and mumbled against the warm glove holding my words in. If he touched him- if someone else died because of me…

Suddenly, he vanished, with the signature smoke of any spook swirling around airily.

"I'll see you downstairs, you son of a bitch", I muttered to the seemingly empty room.

I then recalled the Announcer's dry voice over the speaker and sped up my pace, getting up and opening the door hurriedly. I didn't change out of my sleeping clothes, hoping no one else had as well. My hopes were answered when I smacked into the bare back of Scout, wearing only his boxers- of course. I crossed my arms over my chest as I kept up with he and Engie's pace. "What's happening?"

The older man shrugged, "I dunno. Never had this happen before. Must be perdy urgent if they got the BLU boys comin' over here."

All types of scenarios ran through my head, but nothing seemed likely or really made sense. Were there intruders on the base? No, they would have warned us to stay armed. No one was wielding any weaponry as far as I could tell when we reached the basement from an emergency stairwell near the showers. It was cold as usual and I cursed myself for forgetting to bring one of my over-shirts.

To my surprise, there was a small woman standing by one of the doors in the intelligence room. She was shorter even than me, and wore a pair of cat-eye glasses, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun behind her head. This must have been Miss Pauling.

The other team members were present, mumbling to one another theories of the gathering, as Soldier vocalized his need to smash the heads in of all the BLUs who began filing into the room. I observed a few dirty looks tossed between a few of the men of opposing sides. There was the BLU Spy, slinking lazily towards the back of the room to take a seat on the desk. He had straightened himself up, hiding the fact that he was intoxicated.

Before he caught me glaring at him, I noticed someone else watching me. The BLU Sniper was without his shades or hat, dressed in a white t-shirt and casual pants as he eyed me. I couldn't quite discern the look on his face, or what it implied. He was trying to ask me something through his eyes as they flickered momentarily to the Spy only a few paces from him, and back to me. He almost looked worried, but I couldn't place it. I blinked a few times and pursed my lips together as Miss Pauling began to speak.

"Gentleman, it seems as though we have a fairly large problem." She sighed as she looked at the clip-board in her hands, then over to a TV that had been placed in the corner of the room. "We don't have all the information we'd like you to have right now, but we do have this."

She played a film before us on the boxy television set. Everyone's eyes fell on the moving images before us, enveloping us all in awe. Footage of some kind of…machine. It was large, and the silhouette was familiar, but I was having a hard time making it out due to the lack of quality. Mind you, television was in its infancy.

"Zat…is zat a _Heavy_?" The BLU doctor wondered allowed.

I narrowed my eyes again at the image. He was right. My mouth fell open as I realized we were gazing upon the robotic form of our lovable heavy weapons man. "Dear god…" Engineer whispered beside of me. Everyone remained in shocked silence as more of this technology was shown to us through the video. There was an electronic Medic, Engineers, and there were so many of each. Then the image of a gray, gleaming sniper flitted before us. I closed my gaping mouth and glanced at my sharp-shooting opposition. He stood, face bathed in the light of the television as his lips parted, unable to respond to what he was seeing.

"These, are not average robots. They are designed specifically to mimick your strengths, to oppose you."

The film cut off to black as we all stared at the tiny woman, wanting more answers. She sighed and pulled the manilla envelope she had been holding under her arm out. Throwing it casually on the floor, dozens of photographs slid across the tiled ground at our feet. I bent over to pick one up I had caught under my toe. Cupping my mouth in my free hand, I dragged it over my chin in apprehension. It was the image of something massive, overshadowing all the robot copies of us, holding an enormous minigun in it's metal hands. I held it over to Heavy, on the other side of me and he took it, closing his eyes as though he regretted seeing it, "This is bad."

"Bad indeed." Miss Pauling was looking a bit nervous herself. "Redmond and Blutarch Mann, they- they've been murdered. Their brother has launched these hordes on Mann Co. bases around the country."

"Wot?!" The BLU Demoman burst. "The Mann brothers…they're _gone_?"

"How is Heavy supposed to feed sisters now?" The opposing Heavy roared, outraged. I looked up at the anxious Miss Pauling, realizing what the man meant.

"Wait-", I cut in, my tone turning mildly desperate. "This means we're all jobless? I can't leave here, you all KNOW this, I signed a contract for identity protection!" I felt myself tremble, but I couldn't tell if it was out of rage, or fear. And I didn't care about the handful of confused looks I received. If I left this base- I could land right into the hands of the authorities. They wouldn't just lock me away forever- they would kill me. I'd murdered a child.

An uproar resounded throughout the room, mostly emitting from the Scouts, Soldiers, and Demomen, who were almost this loud on a daily basis anyway. Miss Pauling attempted to raise her voice, but she obviously wasn't the type. A burst of gunfire echoed painfully through the verbal mess and everyone grew suddenly quiet. Our own Spy stood behind me, revolver in hand. "Let the woman speak."

We all looked back to her, apologetic for our rambling.

"Thanks Spy," She gathered herself before continuing, "And Miss Reid, we understand your circumstances and have taken them into consideration. We have a solution- for all of you."

She looked at me once more, for emphasis, "You may stay on this base- everyone. You are unemployed, but we are re-employing you, to help fight this war. This man is after our facilities, which also happen to be your homes, and your jobs. We will arm you, the Administrator has even considered raising your salary for incentive. We need these bases intact, and so do you, so why not help us? Together."

The room remained quiet, but we all slowly looked to one another, then over to our new teammates. The indifference that coarsed through the room in that instant was almost tangible. In my thoughts, I felt the idea was in fact a good one. A base of eighteen ruthless mercenaries sounded like the safest place in the midst of a revolutionary robot attack. For once we could put our manpower to actual good use. Our fighting would have an actual purpose. Someone broke the awkward stillness.

"Wait, when can we expect 'em?"

Everyone's attention shot back to Miss Pauling, who fidgeted, obviously unsure. I felt bad for the poor woman.

"W-well. There's our problem. We have no idea." Faces dropped. "They attacked the base outside of Winthrop yesterday. There was a sighting late last night, outside the Washington state border."

We were in New Mexico. They were traveling south now. I spoke up: "How many bases will they hit before they get _here_?"

She counted on her fingers quickly before responding, "Four. There's four from Winthrop to this base we stand in now. We don't exactly know how fast they're moving, and we're intercepting them as much as we can, but the Team Fortress headquarters is in a sort of…rush at the moment."

I leaned back, trying to judge when they might be arriving at our front door. Goddamnit. Without the proper intelligence, there was no telling. We most likely didn't even have a week to prepare. I could feel the stress of fearing the shadows, wondering when they would appear on the dusty horizon.

The room began to chatter, before Miss Pauling's soft voice piped in once more, "One more thing."

Silence again. At this point, everyone feared whatever might come out of her mouth. Anticipation as I watched her bite her lip fretfully. She almost seemed frightened that we might beat her down. I heard Engineer swallow beside me.

"The most important thing, and we _cannot_ stress this enough to you all-", she shifted uncomfortably and looked down at her feet, "-the respawn system…a few hours ago it-… it crashed."

I gasped loudly before a few of the men surrounding me bellowed in frustration. The room instantly became a riot, and I struggled to reach Miss Pauling before our own Soldier nearly nailed her with the shovel he had brought with him. I pulled her back from the frenzy of men and turned to her as they all yelled at one another, mostly for no good reason I could discern of.

"You mean it's out? Gone forever?" I said over the other voices, holding both her arms in my grip.

She nodded regretfully, not responding with words. She looked tired, more than likely from traveling base to base. After exhaling in defeat, I pushed her gently out the exit and told her to get some sleep, "We get the point now. Just go on and tell the others, you're wasting time."

She nodded and quietly turned the corner down the hallway, leaving to catch a plane elsewhere. I turned back to the room of screaming men, unsure what would be productive at this point in time. No one was sleeping tonight, that's for sure. I spotted our Spy smoking in the opposite corner of the room and approached him for a cigarette, which at this point, was needed. I had left mine upstairs.

He gave me one upon asking, but continued to silently watch his arguing teammates. I leaned against the wall beside him and viewed as well, puffing on my cigarette. I could feel a migraine coming on. The BLU Spy sat on the desk to our right across the room, watching us carefully, smugly. I returned his look half-heartedly, not really in the mood to have a staring contest. I murmured to my co-worker.

"What do you think we should do?" A somber note tinged my voice.

He took a long drag before responding, smoke oozing from his mouth, "I imagine we must prepare as best as we are able. We'll have to take turns keeping watch. I imagine if zey managed to take out the respawns, zey are able to intercept with communication from headquarters. Zey will not be able to inform us of zeir presence."

It was like a goddamned apocalypse. An apocalypse the common citizen was not yet aware of. We were resorting to measures equal to those of a mass zombie-infestation. I didn't want to bring my teammates down, but it was hard to remain hopeful.

"And you?" He chimed through my haze of thoughts.

I looked up at his blue eyes, only this time his gaze no longer made me blush. "What do I think we should do?"

He nodded. I turned back to the devastating choir of arguments before us. "I don't know. But I do know one thing."

They were in one another's face, even those who were originally on the same side. At least verbal abuse was no longer directed towards a certain team color.

"When you have a group of men together, and they're about to face nearly-impossible odds." I looked back to the Spy, "It calls for the biggest shitfest you could _possibly_ imagine."

A grin rolled across his lips as he watched me approach both the BLU and RED demomen, asking exactly how much Scrumpy they both actually had hidden away from the rest of us.

* * *

**Review! Review to save the rare endangered Spycrab!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hola. I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and of course those before it. You guys are so awesome, I'd have lost all hope without ya. I also wanna say, that this chapter has more naughtiness, and that if you don't like the fact I include naughtiness in my story, then don't bother reviewing and telling me about it. I am open to all forms of criticism, and encourage it, but it's to improve my writing, not the content. Thanks.**

**Other than that, I'm gonna let everyone know, that after this chapter, things are sort of going to take a darker turn, so brace yourselves. Shit is about to hit the fan. This isn't my best chapter, so sorry if it's a little funky. School has got me sorta distracted, but I plan on continuing! Enjoy my loves! :3**

**EDITED: Again, smut is less smutty due to the "stories-being-removed holocaust".  
**

* * *

It was bumpy to an almost obnoxious extent on this road. Or perhaps it wasn't the road itself, I was thinking it may have just been this oversized vehicle, damaged from years and years of use and protesting over being driven at all. I didn't complain though, as my cheeks were already growing rosy once more due to alcohol consumption. You people must think I come up with the lamest excuses to drink. Not true! I simply had never experienced a job where I was entitled to drink whenever I damn well pleased. I grabbed at any somewhat significant occurrence I possibly could to take advantage of this perk. I was no Demoman, rest assured. This event just so happened to be a conceivable doomsday on the horizon. What better time to drink than your possibly final chance at it? Even Soldier was taking shots, who typically only stuck to beer. However, both the RED and BLU patriots had demanded that someone go pick up a couple cases. They refused to drive, as drinking and driving was inexcusably un-American. So the BLU Sniper and I offered to go grab it.

It was also an excuse for him to speak to me, as it was clear he wanted to say something earlier. He invited me along, knowing full well I would accompany him out of curiosity. I sat in the passenger seat of his camper van- house thing, with my arm propped on the door, attempting to smile to ward off the impending event we had all agreed to stick around for. Everyone was trying their hardest to ignore it until the moment came.

"Lass, you remember when I came t'you in theh tunnels?" He too had agreed to partake in the consumption of Scrumpy, but I could tell he was experienced at driving while drunk. Under the circumstances, I could care less even if he was terrible and frightening on the road while drunk. I was probably going to die anyway, why not bail out on the fight now? I'm kidding.

"Yeah. About the competition or whatever it was." I grinned at him, recalling his previous act of courtesy.

"Well. About that." He looked at me and squeezed his lips together before continuing, "That wadn't me."

I frowned immediately and it took a moment under the haze of the alcohol for me to realize exactly what he was implying. I pounded my fist on the door and looked back out the windshield.

"God_dammit_."

He chuckled at my heated response. "Thas olright love, yeh can still spend plenty 'ah time with me in the next little bit."

I crossed my arms. "Not even…no."

At this he laughed even louder. My smartass comebacks I served people after being insulted came slowly, as my wits were not currently up to speed. I couldn't find a good comeback in time, admittedly.

After his brief spill of drunken laughter, he seemed to turn stern quite suddenly. I observed him as his mouth set into a hard line. He had taken his hat off and put a bandana on his head about an hour ago as the effects of the liquor kicked in, and I was having a hard time taking him seriously at the moment. I snorted before he began to speak what was on his mind.

"Listen." He started and sighed. "I know our spook's givin' yeh trouble. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

I glanced back outside before I nodded. "Yeah. I'm alright. He hasn't done any real damage."

He peeked over at me, as if to make sure himself that I was unscathed. "It's dirty, the way he messes with you lot. He hasn't bothered me, just 'cause oi happen to be on his side."

I nodded again as I stared at the bobble head on his dashboard. Its surprised little face looked from side to side, up and down, as the rough road beneath us caused it to tremble violently. I placed my forefinger and thumb on each side of its head to hold it in place as I spoke.

"What's with him? I mean, I know spies and snipers are always at each other's throats, but he really takes the time out of his day_ just_ for me."

He shrugged. "Not much I've gotten outta 'im. I roughed 'im up once, for messin' around a little too hard with the gal before you. All he said was one 'a "our kind" took somethin' from 'im."

I let this set in for a moment, and I think, just for a second, I pitied the BLU Spy. I don't know what he went through, but I'm sure it wasn't pleasant. However, it didn't excuse the way he acted, and I felt my vision turn red as I recalled him earlier that morning, in my bed, with a knife to my throat, threatening to finish me off permanently. What I would give to strangle him so hard his head burst off his shoulders. I wanted him to feel what I had to feel every day. I removed my fingertips from the bobble head in the case I crushed it.

"You olright?" He peered at me again, taking in my angered demeanor. I instantly replaced it with my uneven drunken smile.

"I'm good. I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do."

He smiled back as he pulled into the tiny parking lot of a gas station some thirty minutes out or so. The building was basic, squared and painted a hideous red and yellow. When he went inside, I noticed a small stack of photos tucked between the seats. Glancing up to make sure he was still in the gas station, I pulled them out quickly and flipped through them nosily. I couldn't help it. The man seemed a type of loner such as myself, and I was curious as to what type of documentation he could possibly keep on himself.

Most of them were snapshots of himself, presenting different animals he had killed, his face jumping back and forth to different ages in each. I almost laughed as I realized he had that uninterested look plastered onto his face in almost every one, with the occasional grin at whoever was taking the photos. From the background I could tell they were taken back in Australia. A photo of he and an older man and woman, what I expected to be his parents. More kills, more dead animals, trophies. I checked again to make sure he wasn't walking back. Then I had to double-take at one of the pictures I had casually placed behind the rest.

It was a child. I ducked my head to get a better look, as the sun hadn't fully risen yet. A tiny boy, propped on the hunter's knee, holding his pudgy little arms up excitedly. He couldn't have been three years old yet. And Sniper…he looked so happy. There was a glimmer in his eye, something I hadn't seen in him thus far. They indeed looked similar- chestnut brown hair, watery blue irises, the golden complexion. I couldn't help but smile quietly to myself at the sight, suddenly sympathetic for the man. He never got to see his son. I put the pictures back neatly when I saw him nearing the vehicle, two cases of the cheapest beer he could find in tow. I'd have chosen the same.

* * *

It was, simply put: erratic. Forgetting about the monstrous feat that hung over our heads was easier than ever expected. We had a monstrous supply of alcohol, who we had promised to pay back to the Demomen if we lived, and I don't know that any of it would go to waste. Starting off with close to twenty bottles of Scrumpy, all eighteen of us had already made it through ten, and a few were still only tipsy as I uncapped another. It sounds unrealistic, but so were our odds of survival. We were all out behind the main entrance to 2fort, beyond the rocky wall that marked the back of the BLU base. There was a fire, although the sky was bleeding red and pink from an incoming sunrise.

There were five of us in our little group, including both Scouts, Spy, and the other Sniper. We were playing a drinking game that required taking a shot every time one of the Soldiers said "maggots". So far, I wasn't sure if our own Scout was going to make it. He was definitely already blacked out, as everyone on our team had previously called. The other Scout was laughing at him in a familiar hysterical manner, with freckled cheeks and strawberry-blond hair, nearly falling out of his seat as he pounded the table with his fist. I sat across from Spy, who was swaying and turned around, watching cautiously as the BLU Pyro did fire tricks for the drunken Heavies. They clapped approvingly, yelling over one another. Sniper sat beside me and we had our arms locked through each other on table as we both threw back shots of the horrible Scrumpy. It wasn't the best, but it definitely got the job done.

He laughed as he smacked his glass down, "Why 'aven't we done this before?"

I shook my head in response. "No idea. If Team Fortress weren't such tight-asses, it might be possible."

Spy had turned back to our conversation, ducking under the swinging elbow of the BLU Scout, who was attempting to fight off our own.

"Helen would never allow eet. Ze –_hic!_- ze only reason it is acceptable now, eez because she knows she is sending us to our very posseeble deaths." He took a swig from our opened bottle.

Someone had brought a record-player outside, and we were now accompanied by a nice swing number that was popular here in the states. I bounced in my seat as the other Sniper laid his hand on the table for emphasis. "We're not gonna die, wha' is it with you spooks and bein' so negative?"

Still dancing to myself, I was ignoring the argument before me.

"You really zink we 'ave a chance, bushman?" The spy responded, tilting his head almost condescendingly. "I highly doubt eet, as we will most likely be outnumbered."

I turned as someone prodded my shoulder. It was the BLU Scout, as he wobbled up from his seat before offering his hand to me. "Wanna dance?"

I threw my hands up in mock flattery. "Sure, why not?"

We stumbled away from the table and clutched hands, moving in a manner that was most likely more appropriate for a child's salsa dancing class. I attempted to be dramatic and frowned while I strutted back and forth with my equally-unskilled dance partner. He attempted to spin me, but I had to catch myself before I hit the ground, laughing clumsily.

"Aye! Break it down!" The RED Demoman called, before busting out in laughter along with some of the others. Our Heavy was off the ground in seconds as he spun around to the music beside us, unstable.

"_YATATATATATA-YATATATATA_-" He held his arms above him like a ballerina.

This was the literal, and _official_ definition of a shitfest. I loved every second of it. There wasn't a single person present who was not intoxicated and enjoying themselves.

However, something in particular caught my eye. I stopped my vicious dance moves to stare open-mouthed at the BLU Spy, who had passed out on one of the tables we had pulled out. My mind clicked lazily as the Scout I had previously danced with instead linked hands with the Heavy, attempting to keep up with his strange babbling. Thoughts weren't exactly thoughts in my mind while hammered. But somehow, almost with the swiftness of sober reflex, the evil look on his face plastered in my mind's eye, I reached back to the table behind me and grabbed the fresh jar of piss Sniper had just for some reason brought out of his van. Feet planted, I swung it forward with all my might. "JAAARATE!"

It burst on the corner of the table beside the sleeping spy, who didn't stir as the contents leaked all over his white shirt and blue slacks. I threw my arms up, signaling a touchdown. "WOO."

The men at my table stared at me in surprised silence, before I received a hearty slap on the back from my fellow sharp-shooter.

"Thatta girl!"

I glanced at our own spook and winked as he stared at his counterpart, half surprised and half disgusted.

"You're next sweet'ums."

He found no humor in this as he gripped the bottle of Scrumpy, frowning disapprovingly. He didn't like the other Spy. But any Spy could not stand the sight or smell of jarate. I don't know how it got there, but it appeared he wore a blue fez hat, the golden string dangling from his head almost childishly. I took great humor in this and slapped my knee in booming laughter while Scout dragged himself past me, on the verge of vomiting again. His speech was slurred so much, I could barely understand it as English.

"Yeh…_-hic-_ don't go f-fff-fuckin' like a buncha rabbits on me again. I can't feel my…my…" He proceeded to blow chunks all over the ground beside of me and I stepped aside, glaring at him as though he had did it on purpose.

"SHHHHHHHH." I placed my finger over my lips dramatically. "I said- I told you to be quiet Scoot!"

He craned his neck back to look up at me as the Spy attempted to place a bottle of Scrumpy beside the sick boy, more than likely to make him even more sick with the smell. "What eez it you speak of boy?"

The Spy peered back up at me, fixing his blue eyes on my face suspiciously. Honestly, I expected him to catch on quickly, since he seemed to keep his wits longer than the rest of us when drinking. I smiled, stumbling towards him before flicking the rope of his hat out of his face. "He means he heard us."

The man continued to eye me as though preparing for a jarate attack. "He heard us? Ze ozzer night?"

Nodding, I turned back to the Scout and pulled him onto the table bench by his arms. I then walked to the edge of the base and picked up an old empty bucket, dusting it off and placing it in front of the boy. He protested, reaching for the bottle of Scrumpy Spy had placed on the ground, but I snatched it from him, "NO."

He was about to argue again before his head shot down in another spasm of sickness, putting the dusty bucket to good use. We all cringed at the force of his wretching. I took a few steps away and scanned the noisy area. Medic was sitting on a bar stool against one of the rocky faces that surrounded us, laughing incessantly at a joke the BLU Heavy had made. The large man had one hand held in the air, the other on his stomach dramatically. Sniper had migrated over there as well and was holding Engineer's guitar beside his head, plucking an obnoxiously high pitched-number I assume he had made up from the depths of his hazed mind. The owner of the guitar sat and looked mildly irritated with the man's careless and childish use of his instrument. Hey, alcohol didn't make everyone act like a butt-naked three-year-old on a hot summer lawn with a sprinkler. Not that anyone was naked. Excuse my silly drunken comparisons. I sat with them and joined in on the immature conversation that was unfolding.

All was well. Everyone was having a fantastic time, excluding the sleeping spy who was still lying soaked in Australian piss on the picnic table. He didn't know that yet though, so we could count him as blissfully ignorant.

I turned to see what our Spy and the Scouts were up to some time later. But what I saw didn't exactly excite me, or provoke a laugh. I stared, careful of being caught as the RED Spy straddled the bench seat, his elbow propped on the table while the BLU Scout sat in front of him, telling a story. I narrowed my eyes for a moment, observing before realizing that they were…_flirting_. The Spy arched his perfect eyebrows, a crooked grin on his face as he watched the boy tell his tale enthusiastically. He reached forward, casually dusting something off the younger man's shoulder, his fingers lingering for only a second.

I hadn't realized that I swallowed loudly, turning back around. Not knowing this about Spy made me feel like a fool as I suddenly pieced it together. I didn't know if I was hurting, or just confused. Had he been seeing him this entire time? I mean it was a Scout; openness was one of their specialties, so Spy had probably caught on quickly to his intentions. I held my glass in front of me absently as Pyro poured me another shot. I took it, but decided that was probably enough. A shift in emotions can send someone spiraling when they're as shitfaced as I was.

I placed the glass on the ground beside of me and propped my elbows on my knees, looking into the now-low fire, thoughtfully. I couldn't let something like that bother me. I knew there was nothing strong between Spy and I, and I had known this when I walked into his room last week. I had to take it easy on the feelings.

"Fräulein."

I turned my head to look at Medic, who I had forgotten was sitting to my right. I'd lost track of the conversation we were having. "Yeah?"

He smiled gently for a moment. "Don't let zat bother you. You haff to understand zat we are all men, and having needs is nothing new when you're stuck on a bunch of rocks in ze middle of nowhere for months, sometimes _years_."

He was right. I imagined caving into sexual frustration could mean just picking out one of your teammates that was willing, and doing the damn thing either way. I was the same way, though this was because I traveled, and was required to lay low and away from people. I could imagine any casual partner leading me to the cops, or being a rival I had not yet been acquainted with. Still, I felt as though my heart never- ever- got a break. Not in the last two years anyway. I looked back to the two men who were smiling and talking to one another and tried to smile as well, tried to feel happy for them, but failed.

"I know. I just tend to overthink things is all." I looked up reassuringly. "And I'm kinda blitzed."

He nodded. "Yes. Ve all are."

I heard the other doctor somewhere on the other side of the madness, "Hahaha! OKTOBERFEST!"

I smiled at the sudden outburst, always amused when the medics yelled in their cracked German voices. I watched the fire flicker out as the sun finally escaped from behind the rocky cliffs.

"Just be careful wis your feelings." He spoke quietly. "You are one of ze first women on this base, and I assume you haven't become involved with any of ze other men. Don't be a trophy."

My stomach dropped at this. I hoped I wasn't just that, some object of competition he had victoriously taken advantage of first. I closed my eyes as I pulled on my aviators. What a way to embarrass myself, sleeping with a man and developing a crush as though something may actually come from that. I sensed the Spy looking up at me, but continued to watch him from the corner of my eye through my shades, not turning my head to acknowledge him. It was hard though, being drunk. But remembering that the doctor was beside of me, I cast my eyes in front of me, to the ragingly belligerent BLU Demo, who was getting to his feet and throwing a bottle at our Soldier. It shattered around his feet and he snarled, running forward to attack him. I sat forward, though I knew there was no use in attempting to stop the brawl.

Luckily, both Heavies were nearby, and intercepted the furious patriotic man. "Leetle man is too drunk for fighting."

"YE BLASTED MORONS ALWAYS TRYIN' TAH POKE FUN AT MEH. I ONLY GOT BUT ONE EYE, BUT I COULD KICK YER ASS WITH THEH SLAP OF ME BARE HAND."

Soldier screamed predictable insults back to the black man before Heavy pushed him onto the ground with ease.

"NO. You _both_ shut baby mouths. We will not win against robots if fighting each other!"

Several of the men nodded in agreement. It was surprising we had even managed to keep the peace this long. I was impressed. Then again, alcohol makes you forget things you once hated. Just for the time being, anyway. Who knows what things would be like once everyone was stuck with a hangover.

Then a cry emerged from behind us, startling everyone. It was unmistakably one of the Frenchmen. I jumped from my seat on the stool I had occupied and looked beyond the rocks that separated the two groups of men, quickly. The BLU Spy had awoken, and was sitting up straight with his hands in the air, looking down at his yellow-stained shirt. I raised my eyebrows and looked to the other Sniper who stood a few meters beside me. He was swaying and his mouth formed a silent "O". I looked back and those infuriated eyes were locked on me. In that instant, my own mouth formed an "O" but I think I actually said, ominously, "Ohhh."

With a delayed reaction, I turned on my heel, flailing as I almost fell, and took off in the opposite direction. I knew he was faster than me though. I pumped my comparatively short legs as fast as I could, turning to look behind me at the raging masked man who was closing our distance moment by moment. I ran a circle around the large rock in the middle of the flat stretch of land, hoping to confuse him, but failing before I slammed into him on the other side. We both stumbled for a moment before I hopped backwards to escape his grabbing hands.

"C'mon now, spook." I dodged him again, luckily. "It was only a joke, we've all been joking around for hours."

He didn't respond as he lunged forward again, blowing the stench of urine past me when I strafed around him once more. Not so fast when he first wakes up.

"Spy, I think thas enough." Sniper called from where a few of the men stood, watching the chase. "I gave theh stuff to 'er, ease up now."

He stopped and threw a dirty look his way. "This has nuzzing to do with you, bushman."

I took this opportunity to escape and ran back up the small hill towards the others. He grunted, attempting to snatch me again. I flew past the Sniper and turned to watch as the huntsman grabbed the loosened tie around the Spy's neck, causing his feet to launch out from beneath him, and he landed on his back with a loud '_OOF_'. I slowed myself and bit my lip. He would be even more furious due to that little stunt the Australian pulled. I placed my hands on my hips, attempting to steady my ragged breathing and settle my stomach full of Scrumpy. I was correct in my assumption when I heard the Frenchman scramble off the ground and then the sound of someone yelling out in surprise. I turned quickly to see that the Spy had taken a good swing at his teammate's jaw.

"When will you learn to mind your own goddamn business?!" The spook roared, watching as the other man rubbed his chin, staring back at him hatefully.

I approached them. "HEY. If this is between us then don't go taking cheap shots at everyone else."

Once again, I was nose to nose with my rival. I could imagine steam shooting from his ears and nose as his razorblade gaze held my own.

"What?" I spat at him. We were both heavily drunk, and I could tell this was about to get unpleasant.

The man was furious, he could not even speak words as he ground his teeth together, those icy blue yet mildly bloodshot eyes blaring into me. It seemed he was making no attempt at all to keep that well-groomed image of himself unblemished. I had brought him to a degree of anger that was rare in him, at least visibly.

"You are ze most pathetic human being I 'ave ever set eyes on! You do not belong here, zis is not the place for pitiful, _worthless_ children like you, whose only use is for jokes and useless flirting! You are lucky I have not shot you at zis point! Petite merde!" He spat on the ground before continuing to stare into my face murderously.

I was certainly taken aback by his choice of words to some extent, and I closed my half-opened mouth, not knowing how exactly I wanted to react. His expression was cold and lacked any form of humanity as I could see he was having a hard time not hitting me. But I didn't move an inch.

"You can scream worthless insults into my face all you want, spook. But hear this." I moved just a bit closer, and lowered my voice to a murmur, "If you ever threaten me like you did five hours ago, I will personally see that your body is tossed into one of these mineshafts after I kill you on the spot, any place, any time."

I mirrored his strong position, only pulling my face away slightly to observe his reaction condescendingly. Scrumpy was liquid courage, indeed.

I had not spoken so intimidatingly to someone since I'd been ripped off on a job about a year and half ago. While I had successfully killed an entire drug cartel, I'd come out with a broken collarbone, and several fractures in both legs, and I didn't take lightly the fact that my employer decreased my pay just because it was noisy. He didn't say anything about being quiet.

The Frenchman straightened up slowly, and stared down at me, being almost a head taller. He held the deadly gaze for one more moment before turning away and leaving me without an answer among all the staring men. When he had moved from my view, I was left staring blankly into the face of Sniper, who stood some ten feet in front of me. His expression was almost equally straight-faced and serious, with only a trace of surprise in his uplifted brow. I don't know if he'd heard my promise to his teammate, but I imagined if he had, he could've cared less if I murdered him or not.

I glanced briefly back over to where Spy and the BLU Scout sat. The older man held my gaze for only a moment before he cast his eyes back to the boy before him, and continued the conversation. My stomach turned. Standing still in the same spot I was left in, I considered a few closed thoughts to myself, contemplating my next course of action carefully. My mind was in turmoil, a mixture of harsh threats and disappointments. _Please_ do not judge me for what I was about to do. I was just a girl, a drunk one, and one with some recent issues of the heart.

I began to casually and slowly make my way towards the base, giving up on the party behind me. As I strolled, someone called out to me.

"Oi!"

I turned as Sniper waved after me, walking to meet me before I entered. "Yah forgettin' somethin'?"

Blinking a few times, I looked over to where I had placed my rifle a few hours earlier. It was no longer lying there as I remembered I had left it in his camper van on our beer run. Don't ask why I had brought it- in fact, don't ask the intoxicated too many questions at all. I couldn't even really give you an answer on that one.

I smiled lightly. "Thank you. I'd forgotten all about it."

He smiled back, trying to comfort me I suppose. Comforting people wasn't really the man's thing, but the sight of an obviously mind-rattled young woman prompted him otherwise. I stuck my hands in my pockets as he strolled beside me quietly. The sun was beating down on us now, a slight breeze gliding past my face. I squinted my eyes behind my shades as the effects of the alcohol began to calm a little, though I still had a slightly drunken wobble in my legs. It was too beautiful outside for there to possibly be a mass robotic attack, though it was doubtful they would make it any time soon.

We made it around to the opposite side of the base where his van was parked. It really was a shitty van, though I'm sure he knew this and didn't give two fucks. As all snipers knew: any bed was a good bed. As long as you had somewhere to sleep that wasn't a bench in the middle of a shady public park (based off experience, unfortunately), you couldn't complain much.

He opened the back door after punching in a four digit code, and climbed inside with me at his heels. As I took a look around, I wasn't very surprised by how unkempt it was. There was a small twin-sized bed to our right, and an old corner table across from it. Across being about two or three feet. Leaning against the back wall was my sniper rifle. He stepped forward and picked it up, turning to hand it to me.

"There ya g-"

I didn't let him finish his sentence as I stood on my toes and pressed my lips against his. The stubble on his jaw scratched my chin as our lips locked tightly, but not forcefully. His scent was that of a faint trace of shaving cream and liquor and his lips were so warm over mine. I hoped he couldn't hear my heart as it began to beat quicker by the second. I bit his lip ever so lovingly before I pulled back, standing flat on my feet again beneath his speechless stare. I hoped I hadn't just scared off a potential friend as I smiled lightly up at him.

"A bit naughty are we, sheila?" The man's face remained taken aback. "You know theh spook's gonna throw a wobble if he-"

I shushed him. "No one will know if you don't tell 'em. It's not his business what I do."

He opened his mouth as if to protest while I gently removed his aviators from his face, laying them on the table beside of me. But he didn't say anything while I began to unbutton his shirt, his eyes slowly moving to my hands. Once I had completed this, I intentionally pressed my chest against his as I then reached up to pull the vest from his shoulders, and the silly rag he had tied to his head earlier, tossing it to the side. I nipped lightly along his jaw and smiled to myself as he tilted his head back ever so slightly. I moved down his neck, to his collarbone, planting small, seductive kisses along his skin all the while, attempting to entice him to the best of my ability. I didn't get the flutters whenever I saw him like I did around the Spy, but there was definitely something about him that attracted me. It was those strong arms, that accent, the way he handled himself and his gun. He didn't seem like the type that slept with someone almost every night like the spook, but something told me he would know exactly what he was doing.

His eyes followed me silently as I kissed his chest, the trail of hair tickling my nose. I moved down, slowly, sneaking a satisfied peak up at his face. I then proceeded to undo his belt buckle on my knees, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants gracefully. I came to face his forest-green boxer briefs. I slipped my fingertips beneath the elastic waistband teasingly and looked up at him, still grinning.

Sweat was beginning to form on his temples. "I take that back. You're not a bit naughty." He cocked an eyebrow and growled, "You're a _very_ naughty sheila."

* * *

We both came down from our peaks of ecstasy after a few moments, and he fell back, my body collapsing over his as we heaved, trying to catch our breath. Again, my legs were shaking, as they always did if- and _only_ if, the sex was great.

Still panting slightly, I spoke up, "Thank you for that," I patted his chest, "I really hope you don't think any less of me."

The Australian shook his head once, "Neh. Oi undastend."

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking around for something, before snatching my pack of cigarettes up that had fallen out of my pants pocket. He continued to talk as he pulled two out.

"Yeh know, you ought not let those spooks push you around so much. Oi'm not complainin', I haven't had a shag in ovah a year. But maybe if you tried clearin' your head of it a bit, you wouldn't have teh be here, sleepin' with some horny old guy in a camper van."

I snorted at this last part, "You're not an 'old man' yet, Sniper." I allowed him to light my cigarette.

Allowing a cloud of smoke to gust from my lungs, I thought over what he said momentarily, choosing a careful response. This man wasn't much for listening to other people's feelings, and I wasn't much for sharing them with anyone besides whoever is reading this. Scout had come the closest to seeing one of my emotional bouts, because I had been unable to control it at that point.

"I just… wait. Does _everyone_ know about my personal life now?" I looked up at him, my eyebrows pushing together.

The man chuckled. "We're not undah the same contracts we once were, sweetheart. Afteh being re-hired, wot we do isn't the business of our employers. For now, anyway."

"So…", I rolled my eyes, "I'm assuming Scout ran and told everyone as soon as he had the chance. Great."

To my surprise, Sniper shook his head and smiled slightly. "Sheila, the way you look at him gives you away. An' it's not exactly a secret that our own spoi wants you dead."

I was silent. Sitting up beside of him, I rested my chin on my hand, cigarette hovering before my lips. The looks I gave him. Undoubtedly, my uncontrollable blushing was what gave me away. I didn't feel the least bit regretful or violated after sleeping with a man almost twice my age, because pleasure was pleasure, and age gaps didn't change that. However, when the balaclava-clad mercenary who could only be a few years younger than the sniper at my side showed his face in the same room, my temperament seemed to shift quickly. The cocky European put the heat in my cheeks, the skip in my heartbeat, the knot in my stomach. There was no working around this any longer. I lowered my forehead against my opened palm.

"You love 'im?"

It took another moment for my response as I stared down at my crossed ankles.

"Honestly?" I murmured.

He waited for me, lowering his cigarette while smoke drifted from his nostrils. The answer was now clear to me, though I wish I could explain to myself why. The Spy and I had no heartfelt conversations, no special and mutual experiences besides sleeping together. Then again, he had saved my life on that bridge, though he didn't even know why. I still didn't know what brought me to trust this man beside me that I barely knew. But I confirmed within that this trust was well-placed, as my reply came out unenthusiastically with a hint of confusion, cutting through the cancerous haze around us.

"…yes. I do."

* * *

**_Dawwwww_. We all knew this, but at least her head came out of her ass and she finally admits it. Frustrated with the Snipers? The Spies? Love it? Hate it? Suggestions? Lemme know!**

**A/N Edit: Yeah, okay so the smut wasn't really smut at all. The way the scene was originally written really called for most of it to be deleted. Again, I apologize guys. :( Damn guidelines.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry I'm starting to take forever guys. The chapters are a lot longer than they were initially, and classes are driving me craaazy. This chapter isn't great, but it's the calm before the storm I s'ppose. Over the next bit, not in this chapter necessarily, you'll notice I've tweaked details of MvM to give it a more realistic feel. No respawn, no announcer, just our loveable mercenaries on their own, fighting to the death. The secondary genre of this story is drama, so prepare for that, because it really starts showing at the end of this.**

**Dis is a disclaimah! c:  
**

* * *

I woke up to the pleasant sound of birds singing to one another, expressing whatever emotions or concerns a bird could possibly feel. Cracking one eye open, I found that I was again suffering another headache. Don't suppose I could really blame anyone but myself. Well, I felt that I could probably blame Gray Mann and the purpose he had presented for our havoc-ridden party. Yeah, I think I'll go with that. I groaned and cleared my throat. Lifting my head up groggily I peered up at the peaceful face of a sleeping Sniper, his hair disheveled to the point where I imagine he would normally be embarrassed, had I not been the cause. Smiling, I reached up and smoothed what hair I could back from his forehead, admiring his serene expression. He looked quite nice when he didn't have that hateful look on his face, tugging at his laugh lines.

Pulling the blanket off, I straightened my bra before gazing casually out the window behind us at the afternoon sunlight. If I had to guess, I'd say we had only been sleeping for a few hours. I have no clue how I'd managed to get myself out of my slumber after drinking more than I had for quite some time. I rubbed my eyes and stood, losing my balance slightly. Then I turned to my bedmate and rested a hand on the side of his scruffy face.

"Hey…," I murmured to him as he shifted, moaning, "- we gotta get up. They'll probably want one of us to keep watch for a bit."

The man reached up, smacking a hand against his face and rubbing it tiredly. "Agh… wot time is it?"

I shrugged. "Twelve, one maybe."

Reaching down to pull my pants back over my legs, I caught him smiling at me as he sat up. I couldn't help but grin back as picked up my shirt, dusting it off.

"Ya sure you don't wanna have anotha' go before you decide t' go back to the spook?"

I laughed at this. "And what makes you think I'd go back to him?"

He stood up, straightening his boxers over his hips. "You will."

Looking back down at my tanktop, my smile slowly faded as I took in his words. It sort of irritated me, but he was probably right. I couldn't ignore the feelings I'd admitted to myself a few hours ago, and I did seem to be a pretty predictable person. I don't think I'd be "going back" per se, but my new clarity would definitely make it impossible to ignore him, especially over the little stunt I pulled a few hours ago. It was easier to forget about the incoming robotic threat than him. I sighed in defeat, pulling the shirt over my shoulders.

"You wanna go up first, or should I?" I asked, turning to him as he made two cups of coffee. Ugh. That back, those shoulders. If I were a tad bit more irresponsible I might reconsider his previous suggestion.

He turned and handed me one of the steaming mugs. "Oi'll go up an' we can switch in a couple hours. Oi'd ratha' get it ovah with."

Nodding, I thanked him for the coffee before slinging my rifle over my back and putting my aviators back on. The Aussie gave me two aspirin I had requested, that I shoved in my pocket. He picked up his Akubra from the bedside table and put it on my head lovingly, like he was sending his child off to their first day of school. I guess you could consider my coffee cup a lunchbox. I laughed to myself at the thought and opened the door to the brightly lit plain before me. Sniper leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms.

"Good luck, sheila."

I threw a look back at him. "I think I'll be fine, it's not like they'll be here-"

"Not wot oi was talkin' about." He was shaking his head and smiling softly.

Pausing, I merely looked at him, aware now of what he was implying. I think. I didn't respond, but instead stared off into the desert-like scenery before turning again to make my way back to the base. The men here were almost as nosy as the girls back in high school. I just wasn't used to our severed contract, and the fact that anyone could speak openly about their personal lives now.

I ventured around the backside of the BLU base to the spot where we'd thrown our shindig. The sight I came upon was not very surprising. Men were strewn across the ground, a few missing and probably inside somewhere, throwing up or eating breakfast. Or throwing up their breakfast. I'd been in that position before. It's disappointing when perfectly good food is rejected by your stomach.

I made my way over to the picnic table I had occupied last night, where Scout was still laying, face down. Sighing, I propped my gun against the table and carefully turned the boy over. It was time for damage control.

"Ugh." There was vomit on his cheek. I could hardly bring myself to pick up a shirt off the ground and wipe his face, like I was his mom or something.

When I pulled my hand back from him, my eyes slowly moved to the soiled shirt I was grasping. It was blue. It was a Scout shirt. My mind put the pieces together and I frowned, dropping it back to the ground. I tried my hardest to just not even think too much about it, and kicked the blue material under the table in frustration. My attention was grabbed again by the boy in front of me as he stirred, groaning miserably. I stepped forward and sat next to him as he smacked his lips and shielded his eyes from the angry sun. He struggled to sit up and I wrapped an arm around his back to help him up.

"Take me inside," he begged, "…pleeease."

I chuckled and put one of his arms over my shoulder as he walked half-assed back into our base with me, as though he were wounded or something. I knew better than to pick on a hung-over Scout, though. We made it inside and I sat him in one of the chairs that was still left in the cafeteria. I got the boy a glass of water and pulled the aspirin tablets out of my pocket, only to have him complain that he didn't need it. Furrowing my brow in frustration, I caught him off guard by lunging forward while he was yawning and shoving the pills into his mouth. His eyes widened furiously but I pressed my hand against his lips to keep him from spitting.

"Scout. We need everyone alert today, and you have to be at your best. Just-" I put the glass in his hand, "-take it. Please."

The boy's face dropped as he watched me for a moment. I slowly removed my hand from his mouth and smiled. He wasn't amused. But he did as he was asked, placing the glass to his lips, eyes still on me. I placed my hands on my hips, in a proud mom stance before I noticed his eyes roaming over me. Then came disapproving mommy. I crossed my arms and narrowed my gaze, not understanding why he didn't think I could see what he was doing.

"Scout." I repeated his name.

After drinking the entire cup of water in two swallows, he sighed appreciatively before looking back up at me.

"Someone's been havin' all sort'sa fun, huh?" He finally spoke coherently, his voice rough from all the drinking he'd done.

What? I uncrossed my arms and looked down at myself, uncertain as to what he'd seen to tip him off to the idea. I saw nothing. My pants were zipped my shirt straightened perfectly. I had Sniper's hat, but we'd all been trading off hats all night. Hats were a big deal here for some odd reason. I checked my arms, my legs, my…

The love marks. There came that trademark blush into my face as I looked up at him with wide eyes. There's no way the Aussie hadn't noticed them. He must have found this hilarious, he probably laughed at me as soon as his camper door was safely closed. Oh great. This was just great. I had no make-up on the base with me, I hadn't worn makeup in years. I was going to be a laughing stock.

Scout was now cracking up hysterically, slamming the cup down on the counter as he stood up, unable to control his breathing after a few moments. I glared daggers into him threateningly but he didn't care.

"Man, you- you are just- HAHAHA", he couldn't stop himself and I flinched, wiping spittle from the side of my face in irritation.

"Hilarious, Scout. Sooo funny." I mumbled, looking elsewhere in the room.

He put a hand on my shoulder and craned his neck, looking up into my face.

"So tell me, what wassit this time? Scottish? German? Australian? Or just French again?"

I swatted his hand off me and rolled my eyes, turning to enter the hallway behind us. He laughed again, holding his hands up and calling out to me from where I once stood.

"I knew it! It's the Aussie, right? Was he hairy, or did he just smell bad? HAHAHAHA."

Waving behind me half-heartedly, I continued to make my way up the stoic hallway, passing each door quietly. I counted each one, remembering which of them belonged to each member of the team. When I came to the fourth wide set oak door, I paused and knocked lightly. Something shifted and I could hear footsteps. The door opened to reveal my little fire-bug. A grin stretched across my face as I asked to come in for a moment. He nodded vigorously, more than happy to welcome company as he stepped back, holding the door open.

I stepped in and my eyebrows immediately shot up as I slowly pulled my shades from my face, taking in the sight in mild shock. I was surprised, but also strangely impressed. The walls, the floor; covered in colorful paraphernalia. There were ribbons, stuffed animals, the wooden flooring was almost totally covered by the fluffiest rug I had ever laid eyes on. Even the bed looked like a giant marshmellow, covered in what could pass as sprinkles.

For a moment I was speechless, my mouth hung half open and I had forgotten what it was I was saying. Realizing I must have seemed rude, I closed it promptly and turned to Pyro. He- or she- clapped his hands together in front of him as though he had been waiting for me to see it for quite some time. It wasn't exactly my taste, but I still smiled, as it made him happy- and that in turn made me happy.

"I can see why you're always in such an upbeat mood, little buddy."

"Huddah! Mmmph mmm fft!"

I looked around, unsure if he really had any other clothes. There was a closet, but I imagined it was lined with uniforms, like mine was.

"Say, you wouldn't have something for uh…", I gestured to my neck that had been attacked by kisses, "-this- would you? You know, like a cover up."

He leaned forward a little, taking in the sight I imagined. His head tilted for a moment and he tapped the side of his mask, thinking. Then, as if a lightbulb had just appeared above his head, he stuck a finger in the air before turning swiftly and approaching a dresser tucked into the corner of the room. I took a few steps behind him, standing on my toes to try and glimpse what was inside as he opened it. He bent over and began sifting through its contents, occasionally tossing things out. There were a few knitted dolls, some lighters- was that a blue balaclava? I was bending over to examine it before he threw something soft at me, making me jump. I pulled the material off of my face and looked down at it. It was a long colorful scarf, the kind women wore when it wasn't really cold out, but wanted to look pretty anyway. It was actually quite beautiful and reminded me of my mother. Rubbing the fabric between my fingers I looked up at him as he watched me expectantly. Nodding, I grinned and gave him the tightest hug I could manage.

"Thank you, Pyro. I promise I'll pay you back for all you've done. And give the scarf back, of course."

He shook his head quickly after I had pulled away and gently pushed my arms toward me, insinuating I keep it. I didn't know where in the world I would wear such a thing, but I was still grateful. I hugged him again to his delight, and exited the room, wrapping the lovely scarf around my neck without a care.

* * *

I lied. I did have a care now, as both Scouts poked fun at the garment I had wrapped loosely over my embarrassing sexual evidence, draping lightly off my shoulders. The three of us sat cross-legged on top of the highest tower I could pinpoint, which resided on the payload side of the base. It was my turn to keep watch again, holding my rifle with me. The other marksman had let me borrow an impressive custom M40 piece for my gun, which I had replaced my scope with. He had to have spent hundreds on it. It allowed me to see for miles around me, so that I could at least give my teammates a few minutes to prepare in the case that the robots appeared. Though of course, it had not even been an entire day since we had gathered information of the approaching army. You can never be too careful.

Medic had informed us that all bases in the western branch had completely lost contact with headquarters. We had of course seen this coming, but it had visibly shaken a few of our teammates, as we would now have to completely rely on ourselves to detect the threat. So far, I had taken two "shifts" keeping watch, trading with my BLU partner throughout the day. It was probably around six o' clock, and the sun was still shining fiercely. The scarf was definitely not a welcomed accessory, and I had to again remove my button up in order to breathe. I kept my vest in the case I would suddenly need more ammo.

I'd asked Scout later that day to lend me his earpiece, so that I could easily contact the other boy. He was fast, and he would be able to alert both teams once they were needed. Both Soldiers and Medics had been going around to each team member, filling us in on battle plans and methods. For once, Soldier had not boomed obscenely beside me, but instead, in the most serious tone he could manage, calmly explained our tactics. He explained everything in detail to me down in the cafeteria, not just my own obligations, but those of each of my coworkers. We were all to keep one another in line and make sure no one got too hasty, no matter which team they were on.

It was frightening, and I felt a certain hollowness in me when we discussed so deep a topic. There would definitely be casualties, not everyone was expected to make it. I got cold sweats just thinking about it, about who was and was not going to live. The respawn was completely out, and no matter how hard the Engineers had tried, they couldn't get either of them working, not even one in which we could register all eighteen members. This was a fight to the death.

I sighed heavily, my elbows on my knees, rifle in hand. I couldn't take my eye off the scope for extended periods of time. If they showed up while I happened to be goofing off, I would have to take a lot of shit from both teams. I didn't want anymore blood on my hands than there already was.

"The Aussie! Ain't that the grossest 'ting you evah heard?" My teammate boomed.

The other boy laughed. "C'mon woman, he don't even showah but once a week! Couldn't ya smell it?"

I have smelled much worse men.

"I thought he had a nice scent to 'im." I shrugged, still peering across the horizon. "Maybe Australians use a special deodorant."

"Doubt it. He pisses in jars, he prolly don't even know what deodahrent is." The RED stated.

"Jealous, much?" I responded flatly.

"WHAT? No!" He shoved me, almost making me tumble over. I wasn't in the mood right now. I discreetly swiveled in his direction, my eye still pressed against the scope, and smacked the boy right in face with the end of the gun, then promptly turned back around to resume my watch. He cried out, rubbing his cheek with his hand.

"You're gonna bruise my perfect mug! The hell's yah problem?"

I didn't respond, but held my concentration, determined to ignore the obviously bored boys. I had been in a passive mood over the last few hours, as my mind had gone into one of its sadistically overly-thoughtful phases. The heat didn't help at all either.

The BLU boy stood and stretched, gazing above him into the clouds. "Think it's gonna rain."

I pulled my face back and looked up. He was right. Any minute, the sun would be pulled behind a thick, gray wall. And I would be stuck on this roof for another hour. Fan-fucking-tastic. I clenched my jaw and looked forward again, mumbling more obscenities to myself. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder and was prepared to tackle our Scout to the ground and throw him off the tower. But I realized it wasn't him as I looked back into the brown eyes of his opposition. The boy kept his lips pressed together for a moment before he shook his head lightly.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't know you…"

"I don't." I responded darkly, trying to smile. I couldn't. So I looked forward again. I had to give him credit, he was much more polite than the Scout I was used to. I then felt mildly guilty for my senseless response. I had admitted something to Sniper last night, regarding Spy, that I didn't need everyone knowing about. I just assumed the boy had meant just that, that I had feelings for him, since everyone seemed to know.

And then, I felt a knot in my stomach as I lowered the scope down once more. Oh my god. Our spook. There was no way in hell he hadn't figured it out. I mean, yeah, he'd seen me blushing around him and he liked to play around with me regarding it, but… if this scout knew of my feelings, how could the man not? How could he not have finally figured out, that I didn't just want him for his lean body? I resumed my watch once more, but what the boys couldn't see was how worried my face was. I felt so embarrassed and stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I had forgotten what I had just said to the BLU Scout before I felt his hand slide off my shoulder. He said goodbye to us both and began to climb down the ladder behind us. I was aware of the presence still behind me, and my teammate scooted forward a little, beside me. For a moment we didn't speak. I was sort of grateful he was there now, I needed to think of something besides this… issue. I decided to be the one to break the silence.

"He's a nice boy." I slowly rotated my view, checking past all the rocky faces.

He shrugged. "He's all faggy and whatnot. But yeah, he's alright I guess."

Chuckling, I peered at him for only a second, "So? And what, you're not by now? You're tellin' me you haven't slept with anyone on this base?"

"NO!"

I didn't respond, but grinned deeply to myself. That was either homophobia speaking, or he had definitely bonked someone by now. I was willing to bet on the second. And if that wasn't true, I gave him a few more months before he cracked and gave into it. But I dropped the topic to spare him the embarrassment I constantly had to go through, though he deserved otherwise. He finally spoke again after giving up his pouting, "Aye, you want me to bring ya some food or somethin'?" He pinched my belly, "Too skinny."

I smiled, "Thank you Scout, but I just ate a little while ago. Pyro made somethin', you should go get some before it's gone."

He stood and stretched, cracking his back in the process. "I guess you're right. I'll see ya when ya come down."

With that, he too made his way off the tower, and I sat alone in silence. I heard thunder rumble over me and noticed a flash between two clouds in my peripheral. The air was becoming heavy and moist, and the sun had receded. It was hot outside, and I couldn't wait to feel the rain, despite the fact that it was going to make watching a hell of a lot more difficult. Pulling my scarf off, I sighed and lowered my rifle. I pinched the bridge of my nose and hung my head, exhausted from lack of sleep. It had been a long night, and a long day indeed. Luckily, Medic had given me a little boost with his medi-gun and my hangover had completely withdrawn. I don't think that was what it was meant for, but he helped me out in a lot of ways when the rest of the team wasn't looking.

I heard someone behind me again and smiled. Sniper must have come to relieve me of my duty a little early. I held the scope to my face again as I spoke.

"It's a bit early don't ya think?"

He walked up next to me slowly, and I realized the click of his boots weren't quite right. Looking over, my eyes were met with polished Italian leather and the bottoms of a red pair of slacks. I followed the slender pair of legs upward, to the matching leather gloves and fitted waistcoat. Turning back to the task at hand, I sighed, not really knowing what to say. There was no point in putting the scarf back on either. He'd had to have already seen it.

He stood there for a while, completely silent, taking drags from his cigarette. We only interacted once, when he lowered his disguise kit to me, somehow knowing that I had run out. I plucked one out and looked up at him suspiciously as I pulled my matchbook from my pocket.

"You need somethin' spook?"

He shrugged, still not looking at me. "Can I not accompany you, or eez it too distracting?"

I honestly didn't mind at all, but I didn't respond. I would no longer give him the satisfaction of showing I cared. He obviously didn't care. We were silent for a few more minutes before he spoke up again.

"I am sorry if I offended you. I am not the most moral of people, petit."

Slowly, I lowered the gun, still staring straight ahead of me as his words echoed through my mind. I didn't know if he had been up here the entire time, or if he had seen the interaction between I and his other lover. But it didn't make me feel any better, if that's what he was trying to do.

"Stop calling me that."

He glanced down at me for the first time and met my gaze. No doubt I looked mildly irritated. His left eye twitched and he looked away once more, taking a puff of his second cigarette, exhaling through his nostrils.

"I was merely trying to be polite, as it seemed you were bothered last night." He pushed his other hand into his pocket casually.

"I wasn't 'bothered'. Why would I care what you do? You do your own thing, and I'll do mine."

My fists clenched around my gun as I tried to concentrate ahead of me. His shifts in temperament towards me was starting to piss me off. He was messing with me. Medic was right.

He looked down at me once more. "If I'm not mistaken, you 'did your own thing' in response to 'my own thing' last night, non? You slept with that disgusting bushman to try and make me feel something?"

That was it. I stood up and turned slowly to him as he watched me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded fiercely. He sneered.

"I do not know. I barely know myself anymore, thanks to you."

I laughed disbelievingly and stepped back, shaking my head. "And what does THAT mean, Spy? You seem to be the same selfish prick you were when I first met you."

He threw the butt of his cigarette out and put both hands in his pockets. I swallowed. He had that look on his face. The one where his eyebrows lower, and the look in his eyes never fails to stress his seriousness. He walked toward me slowly, until he was towering above me, the faint trace of aftershave wafting against me.

"Ma cher, you do not seem to realize zat you know nuzzing about me. You couldn't if you wanted to, so how in ze world could you assume such a thing?"

I didn't know what to say to him. My thinking wasn't clear, as his face was again only inches from mine, so close that I could feel the soft breathing from his nose and the heat from his skin. I couldn't take it. I looked down, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt in frustration. I turned away from him, so he wasn't able to see me bite my lip as I looked over the edge of the tower, trying to collect my thoughts.

I almost jumped when I felt his fingers grazing lightly against the side of my neck.

His voice was soft, "You are too beautiful for such blemishes."

I snapped around and smacked his hand away, and he pulled it back, an offended look striking his features.

"What is it, spook?! You want me to bang you on top of this tower, get your frustrations out on me before you wander over to the next base to fuck someone else until you're in the mood for me again?"

He was surprised, for once. But his bemused look was swiftly replaced with anger.

"Fine! You don't want to hear what I have to say, you brat, then I'll just leave you up here to feel stupid and miserable as you always were!"

"Ohoho, now you just sound like HIM!" I spat back venomously, referring to the other Spy. I was outraged, but I was having a hard time swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat. "The least you could do is stop acting so wishy-washy about everything and just be honest!"

At first he seemed thrown off when he heard my voice crack, but he smirked once more, realization hitting him. He saw the embarrassment rising in my cheeks.

"I see how it is, cherie. You are indeed foolish, too young to live among grown men, as emotionally unstable as a Scout."

What was he doing? I sucked in air as quickly and quietly as possible, reaching up to run one hand through my hair, back to my braid. Why was he treating me this way, saying these dreadful things to me?

"You know Spy, I don't even know why I-"

I stopped. He watched me as I froze mid-sentence, waiting for a response. "What? What is it?"

My heart felt like it had skipped a beat, and a chill had run up my spine feverishly. Something was wrong. My instinct had flinched as I suddenly realized we were being watched. Oh God. I reached down and my hands clumsily fluttered around until I had found my rifle.

"Sniper- what is it? What's wrong?" He stepped forward anxiously, removing his hands from his pockets.

I pulled the scope up, scanning the horizon until- there. I could barely see it, but I knew exactly what I was looking at, as the images of Pauling's photos flashed through my mind. That thing- that carrier. Those satellites.

"They're here." I breathed almost inaudibly.

"What?"

I lowered the scope as my heart began pounding again, faster than before. I lowered the gun shakily as my eyes widened. No, it was too soon. It was supposed to be days before they made it. It was too soon, goddamnit!

I flipped the switch on my borrowed earpiece.

"THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE, THE ROBOTS ARE COMING!"

Spy was taken aback, his eyes widening like mine. "It can't be."

He snatched my rifle from me and turned around, needing to see it himself. I watched as he lowered it just like I had, ominously.

"Mon dieu."

I didn't have time to chat with him and I grabbed my gun back as the BLU Scout's voice crackled over the earpiece. "What, you sure? This better not-"

I slung the rifle over my shoulder before sliding down the ladder as quickly as possible, "I know what I saw Scout, we're running out of time!"

Spy was making his way down above me, and I hopped off when I was close enough to the ground, rubbing my burning fingertips together. I started to turn and dash away when I felt him grab my arm. Looking back at him, I watched his eyes linger on mine in almost what seemed like…guilt. Almost. Coldly, I jerked myself away from him, glaring. You can't just take something like that back, those words he spoke to me. He hurt me. And I didn't believe that pleading stare for a second. I don't know why I ever thought he could be trusted in the first place, he was a spook. There were suddenly men all around us, running and calling to one another in alarm.

"You can say you're sorry when I'm dead, spook." I hissed, before turning away once more and sprinting into the base to ready my weapons. I left him standing there, in the midst of a dozen or so panicked mercenaries.

* * *

**HUDDAH HUDDAH.**

**Oh lawddd. Next chapter is ACTION ACTION ACTION PANIC TIEM. Leave me reviews? Pleeeease? It would make me feel so awesome. :3  
**

**And if you haven't been reading Chaos' 'Eight Mercenaries and a Toddler', GIT YER ASS OVER THERE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Lordy, I'm a slow one. I promise the next chapter will be longer than this. I wanted to upload last Friday but due to my crappy car's transmission failing while I was out of town, it had to be delayed. I'll make it up to you guys. I'm going to start writing ahead of time to get things running a little quicker, so here's the dealio: the chapter after the next one will be in the POV of a different character. My options are RED Scout, RED Medic or BLU Sniper. I just can't pick, so leave me a review suggesting which you all would like to see most! :3**

* * *

The knot that had formed in my stomach hadn't left.

We were all in position now. The smell of fear was so real it was almost tangible. Our base was tinged with darkness, as the storm clouds seemed to be thickening by the second, groaning in anger. My heart shuddered against my rib cage, as though it were trying to escape before all of this came to a gruesome clash of flesh and metal. It was incredibly difficult to not think about death. I didn't have a single smartass remark, or clever saying that could surface in my mind. This was too serious. Even Scout stood with his feet braced, face determined and coated in a nervous sweat that he undoubtedly hoped wasn't visible. I could see it though, the fear in the younger mercenary's features. I was never the religious type, but I prayed for his safety, prayed desperately to whatever would listen to me. I wanted to pull him off the field and lock him in the basement for protection. If there would even be a basement left. But our Scout would never stand for that.

I had nervously watched earlier as both Medics flipped a coin to see who would stay behind in the case something happened to the other. To my silent relief, and RED Medic's honorable frustration, ours was somewhat safe behind the doors of the BLU base, the side of which the robots were approaching.

But their approach was slow. Normally, this would sound relieving, but watching as the monstrosity of a carrier crept towards us was disheartening and intimidating. If robots could feel, I imagine they would be taunting us, holding the advantage of an armored tank over our unprotected heads. However, they couldn't feel. They were cold and heartless and void of any humanity. I could almost say I used to be the same way.

They were close now, details of the tank becoming more clear to the naked eye. I took a slow, somber look around me, at my teammates, old and new. The Soldiers stood side by side at the head of the group, rocket launchers in tow, their shoulders straightened proudly. They held the most confidence in the face of this battle. I had to admire it. Pyro stood beside me, ready in the case any Spy bots ran into the fight early on. I had my razorback, and had tried to reason that he didn't need to protect me, but he wouldn't move, shaking his head. The Scouts were close behind the patriots, the Heavies a little further behind, and distanced from one another to manage two different vantage points. Our Heavy was Medic-less, and so had to remain stationed by Engie's dispenser, a weak substitute. Sniper was above and behind us, on top of the base, as his shot was slightly more experienced than my own. He could handle the distance.

Then there was _him_. For months and months, I had grown weary of his catching my gaze. But today- it didn't matter. I watched the RED balaclava-wearing merc, still without his expensive jacket, as he stood by a wooden beam some 30 feet to my right. I was still bothered by his reluctance to be straightforward with me, but that was the least of my worries right now. He shifted his eyes from the oncoming enemy, to me. We locked gazes for a few moments before I broke the contact, distractedly. Maybe I had been too callous earlier. I bit my lip. I may never see him again after today.

And then it hit me. I slowly returned my stare to him, but he was no longer watching me. He was…afraid. Was he trying to apologize earlier, before one of us quite possibly fell lifeless in the hands of these monsters? Did he actually feel…guilty? That look he gave me when we'd climbed off the ladder struck my mind. I closed my eyes painfully. I am such a fool.

I was then startled by a distant noise. I looked through my scope quickly. The carrier had stopped, and it stood, motionless amidst a rolling wave of dust as the storm began to kick up clouds of sand. My heart stopped along with it.

I slowly lowered the gun, as I looked down to see Demoman looking up at me on my perch intently, along with a few BLUs. Sighing, my words came out heavily: "It's time fellas."

Swallowing, I watched the machine, the sounds of rifles being cocked and barrels being loaded with bullets resounding around me. This was it. They were ready, and so were we. I clenched my jaw with sudden resilience. Mann Co. could not go down today. I had gotten much too comfy, too grateful, too used to the faces I worked and lived with day to day. This was not how it was going to happen. Sure, I still couldn't get that knot of nausea out, but I still looked to my right at the BLU Engineer, and nodded firmly. He gave me a half-smile, and nodded back, adjusting his hardhat. Determination was all we had, and I hoped the rest of the team was using it as fervently.

I crouched down as Pyro stepped around me, between the Engineer and I. I could hear the Administrator's voice in my head, counting down second-by-second as I cherished all the glorious battles I had fought in these past months.

Working for Reliable Excavative Demolition had been the best days of my life. If they had to be my last, that was fine with me. No better place to die.

The door to the tank cracked open gradually, releasing a pressurized _click_. I heard shoes shifting against the dirt ground below us in anticipation.

This was it.

Ever so slowly, the door lowered towards the ground, though its contents were not clear through the angry weather and distance.

I was meant to be here.

I stole one last glance to Spy. The door was open now, completely. I could hear the mechanics firing up, the robots igniting their lifeless eyes onto us. The sky rumbled ominously as the clouds swirled in and out of one another. I did not want the rain today.

"Your flamethrower gonna be okay if it rains?" I asked Pyro, watching the vehicle closely.

The BLU Engie spoke up. "We thinned out their fuel and enhanced the pressure, so unless it downpours, they should be good to go."

I nodded, grateful that someone had helped them out. I turned my face to Pyro, and grabbed his forearm gently. "I wish I could have been more helpful. Thank you for everything you've done. I'm gonna buy you something nice when we get out of this mess. Okay?"

He watched me through those dark portals of eyes, before nodding and squeezing my shoulder affectionately. I struggled to keep down the lump in my throat, and hide the emotional pain in my eyes. Sentiments were over. Had to be. They were over the moment I spotted a robotic foot emerge from the tank's opening.

I clenched my teeth together in anger and fired. There was another shot which matched my own. Sniper had noticed it too.

The firing of our weapons caused the frontlines of our offense to lunge forward, crying out savagely. Rockets immediately cut through the air, complimented by the blasts of our rifles and the pistols of the engineers. It was on.

A swarm of metal Scouts made their out of the vehicle. It was almost disorienting, the flurry of uplifted bats that covered the battlefield in almost an instant. I had never been forced to reload so quickly. My right arm would be sore by the end of this. Pauling was right in explaining how quickly their offense would spew out, but also how easily the robots could be destroyed. We were fighting against quantity, not quality. The question was how long could everyone hold out in one piece?

I nailed as many Scouts as possible, struggling to maintain sight on any single one of them as they drew nearer. Our sentries began picking them off, one by one. It would only be a matter of time before one of the disturbing, two-legged sentry busters made its way out of the tank.

The sky grew darker as all light from the sun was smothered by storm clouds. How cliché. Every good war story seems to feature bad weather, in some form or another. It was odd how often it rained out here. I had been to several places in the west, and this was by far the stormiest. The air felt constricting and our surroundings drearier by the moment. The difficulty was going to go up once nighttime arrived, for sure. Engineers would stumble when trying to shove spies off their buildings, and their Snipers would have the advantage with our backs silhouetted against the base lights around us.

It was _ungodly_, the amount of Scouts that thing was pushing out by the minute. I looked down to see ours, who were both crashing heads off shoulders and easily busting the arms out of their metal sockets. They acted as though this were some kind of holiday as they gleefully batted dozens of clunking mercenary clones. Suddenly, I felt it. There was the rain. Both Pyros, remembering Soldier's bold instructions earlier, cleared the field with a few last flames before retreating back to the Engineers to fuel up for one last flame-throwing run. I glanced to my right where the BLU crouched next to a dispenser, firing his shotgun. When he noticed my inquiring look, he reached down and flicked his flamethrower which spewed a burst of flames, indicating that it still worked. Nodding, I turned back to my scope, squeezing the trigger a few last times before I was forced to move to the BLU dispenser next to him.

As my hands fumbled for more ammo, a sudden explosion a little too close to the rest of us made me duck. Heat washed over my back as the Pyro next to me yelled something panicked. Before I had time to turn, I heard BLU Medic's voice, tinged with sorrowful disappointment as he shouted, "BLU Demoman is dead!"

The wall to the left of the back entrance had been scorched and partially destroyed in the explosion. If so much adrenaline hadn't been pumping through me, my knees would've buckled. Already. This was only the first of it, and one of us was already gone. I watched painfully as the Pyro seemed mildly stunned by the information. The poor thing was hurt. Undoubtedly there was a friendship there I'd never gotten to witness. I wanted to say something to him, to reach out and pat his back, but time didn't allow as a more distant sound reached my ears. Turning to peer through the scope at the source, my face dropped.

"Holy shit."

There was the giant that Heavy and I had seen in one of Pauling's photographs. It hulked over its tiny Scout-like aides. A couple of our team paused in mid-fire, jaws dropping at the sight. It was so much bigger in person. I had already begun firing at its head when I noticed something else: the white object attached to its back. I couldn't help but gasp a little as I lowered the gun to view it from a distance.

"_IT HAS THE BOMB_!" I cried over the gunshots ahead of me.

This seemed to kick many of the mercenaries into high gear as they boldly moved further forward to attempt to disorient it while Sniper and I took turns firing and reloading, over and over again, hitting its shiny head as quickly as possible. Rain continued to sprinkle around us, though I knew it was going to get much worse. The face of the opposing Demo appeared in my mind's eye every now and again. I felt so awful. I couldn't imagine what the death of one of ours would cause me.

The sky rumbled deafeningly before lighting struck a few moments afterwards. Of course. It would no doubt carry right over us, put us in the midst of the worst of it.

As we continued to fight off the over-sized Heavy bot, I recalled the route to the puzzling giant hole in the back of the facility. Why the hole was there, perfect for dropping a bomb in, I was not entirely sure. It was as though Mann Co wanted something like this to happen at some point. I'd heard stories of other bases that bomb test on one another. We had the old tracks set up for a bomb carrier, but had never engaged in what they call a 'payload' mission. We were strictly an intelligence and point-capturing team.

It was easy enough: below me, there was an entrance into the gates of the base. Once through, it took you around the backside of the BLU base, never really going near the bridge or anything. On the other side, was their destination. There was a shortcut, down in the sewers, where one could cut across to the hole beforehand if needed, meant mostly for the us and the engineers. Everyone was warned to not draw attention to this passage at all, or the robots could blow the base from the inside out. Close it up when you're done: the only rule for using it.

An explosion signaled the end of the bomb-wielding Heavy and I flinched as the explosive twirled in the air before landing on the ground. Harmless for now it seemed. Even yet- this was really bad. More robotic Scouts emerged from the vehicle, exclaiming broken recordings of the young mercenary's voice. Both Heavies took this opportunity to mow down as many as possible as the BLU Medic focused his beam on both of them in intervals.

I jumped when I heard a loud clanging sound to my right. Turning, I saw the Scout stumble back from the dispenser, blood pouring from his mouth. He was struggling to hold himself over it as the blue rays of a mysterious healing substance soaked into his body lazily. I rushed over to him, grabbing for his arm before he collapsed.

"Jesus Christ, Scout, you don't look good at all. Here, can you leaned against the wall?"

The boy sputtered out a few teeth, his head lulling as he fought unconsciousness. He'd slipped and gotten himself mauled.

"They f-fah-fuckin' kicked mah-", he stammered, barely able to stand up straight. Dear God, his jaw was broken and he was _still_ trying to talk. I shifted him behind the dispenser for protection against any gun-wielding enemies. My heart was racing, but I tried my hardest to keep him positive.

"Yeah, how'd you go and let that happen? Stay here, I'm going to get Medic." I smiled half-heartedly before stepping back as he gained a little more balance.

He tried to speak but only slid down the wall, blood soaking his shirt quickly. I spun around in a panic and vaulted over the railing before opening the door underneath the balcony, where the doctor had taken refuge. My eyes darted around the room before I spotted him back behind a medical cabinet. This must have been an old respawn by the look of it.

I stood in the doorway, clothes wet from the rain, "It's Scout, he's really bad off. He's just up the steps."

He looked up at me, stifling his alarm before standing quickly from the bench, "How bad?"

"I think he just got attacked by a horde of Scouts, his face his pretty banged up and I think he might have some internal bleeding."

"Mein Gott.." I heard him trail off as he passed me and rushed through the door. I was at his heels, reaching to pick up my rifle before I heard one of the Soldiers screaming orders at someone.

"PYRO, FALL BACK SON. FALL BACK, FALL BACK!"

I turned on my heel. The rain was thick now, loud between the cavernous structure of the base. My hair stuck to my face and neck as I gazed at the new threat looming before all of us. My eyes widened. Three monstrous versions of a Solider were now making their way towards us, closing in on the bomb. Their feet crushed against the now-muddy terrain, sending rumbling waves below us to match the thunder that punctuated our noisy battle.

It was the RED Soldier who was screaming, and this had just hit me. I stood there, frozen in fear as I looked from the man, to our masked companion. He stood just ahead of the hulking beasts, attempting to ignite his flamethrower, but nothing was happening. It had given up on him. I took a few bold steps forward, wielding my rifle as I called out just as desperately.

"Pyro! Run! Just _run_!" I clenched my jaw, and took a few shots at the robot closest to him, trying to confuse it, if that's even possible.

The rain drenched all those who stood around me, Engineers by their buildings, Heavies by the entrance. We all focused our energy on the Soldiers, realizing the immediate danger our teammate was now in. One of the robots picked up the bomb. This could not get any worse for us.

The Pyro turned, pulling out his shotgun as he fired it at any remaining Scouts that came at him. A hulking Soldier drew ever closer: too close. I felt panic seep into me as I watched him back-pedal away from the robot. The BLU Scout charged in, attempting to distract the opposition so our teammate would have more time to escape. The Pyro turned and made a run for it.

That's when everything seemed to freeze as I gazed upon the nearest Soldier bot, who aimed his massive weapon at my friend, the only one who had cared for me since the day I had pursued headhunting. He carried himself as quickly as his suit and size allowed, wisking through puddles, slipping, faltering.

It was instinctual. I jumped forward, taking out my SMG. As I ran as fast my legs would push, I heard the calls of the men around me through the ever heavier rain. Engineer made a grab for my arm but I jerked away, also ignoring the German addresses thrown my way from behind. I was going to get to him. Doubling over as I ran, I snatched up the late BLU Demoman's sticky-grenade launcher, dropping my SMG and cranking back extra ammo to the best of my ability. Holding down the trigger, I called to my companion, telling him to run faster, releasing stickies as fast as I could while still trying to shoot them far enough, which didn't seem to be working. I was almost to him. I could hear the frantic firing of Sniper, picking off any Scouts that came my way, along with a lumbering RED Soldier behind me who focused all his rockets on the head of the pursuing robot.

In an explosion of flying metal parts, the bomb carrier was down, as well as the second Soldier clone. There were no more Scouts approaching. However- there was still the one remaining massive opponent.

There was a third explosion. And it wasn't the last Soldier.

Silence. Eerie and out of place it was, as I stood still, eyes wide in shock. The battle wasn't over yet though. Rain was pouring now, bucketing over us, drenching my braid and my clothing. It was hot and wet as droplets laced down my skin, off my trembling fingertips and to the bloodied ground before me.

_No._

With a final launch of a rocket, our Soldier finished off his oversized copy. Bits of iron flew past me, flames fighting against the pouring rain as a shotgun landed at my feet. I couldn't breathe, as my throat had clenched shut at the sight ahead of me. After my paralysis had worn off, I took a few cautious steps forward.

"No…no, no, no." I breathed, when I was finally able to control myself.

It can't be. Please.

My walking sped up from an indifferent pace to a desperate jog as I kept my eyes glued to the ground ahead. The silence was deafening as our enemy was most likely manufacturing more copies to send our way. Sound meant nothing, touch meant nothing, rain meant nothing. All that mattered was what I saw ahead of me.

I fell to my knees, my breath catching in my throat. For what felt like an eternity, much too long, I merely stared down at his lifeless body. His mask glistened, droplets trickling down his suit. His chest wasn't rising.

Picking up his gloved hand, I squeezed it gently.

"Pyro? Pyro. Come on buddy, get up."

The silence was too much. Like the day I shot her. All sound seemed to disappear from the world for those few moments. All but the sad sound of rain around us.

"Pyro- get up", I shook his shoulder as I felt hot tears escape my eyes, mixing with the rain, "Y-you gotta get up. It's not over yet. We can still win this, Pyro. I was going to buy you a brand new flamethrower. I'll buy you a new scarf, if-"

I choked on my words, unable to finish my statement, "…if you just…"

I heard slow footsteps behind me, but ignored it. I didn't care about anyone else right now. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"…just please get up. I gotta make it up to you. Please. _Please_, Pyro. Please get up."

There was no movement, no laughter, no squeeze of the hand in return. He lie there lifeless as I failed to hold back a sob. Squeezing his hand even tighter, I leaned over his body, planting one small kiss against his mask. The footsteps stopped beside me as I wiped water from the glass sockets of my friend, to no avail, only to be replaced by more and more persistent rain. More goddamn rain, more problems, more fucking water, more bad luck for us as usual. I didn't want it to rain anymore. It's what I always wished for, but I never wanted to see another storm cloud again.

When bad things happen to good people, it's a tragedy, and what's worse is experiencing it first-hand. Pyro was the best, whether he be a man or woman, I didn't care. Glaring up at the tank some distance ahead, I grinded my teeth. There was that side of me again. The side that wanted to see blood. These menacing sacks of shit didn't bleed, didn't feel pain- and it wasn't fair. I wanted them to hurt, I wanted them to have friends that I could slaughter, so they could feel how I did at that moment, that gut-wrenching feeling of my heart being crushed beneath the boot of an unfeeling adversary. Too many people were dying, too many good people. There was too much hurt, too much pain, too much loss. This wasn't fair. This wasn't how things should be.

Though surprised, I didn't jump when a gun landed beside me. Turning my head slowly, the animal inside me preventing me from feeling normal emotion, I looked from the SMG to the boots beside it. Glancing upward, I stared sullenly into the blank expression of Sniper. Water coated his face, running along his sideburns, off his strong jaw as he watched me without the slightest smile.

"Make it roight, sheila."

I looked down at the lifeless heap that was once my friend- maybe even my best friend- before I picked up my gun. Sitting for another moment, I pulled the wadded up scarf from my back pocket, and smoothed it out lovingly before placing it over his face. Then, I took the outstretched hand of the man beside me, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.

"Now you got somethin' tah fight for." He murmured through the rain before backing away with his rifle to stand by the entrance.

I nodded, wiping tears from my face uselessly, as though the storm hadn't already cleansed me. He was right. We had to win this now. We had to win this for him. For Pyro, for the Demoman, for all the men and women who died at the other bases north of us. There was no question, and I wasn't going to go down without putting up the most violent fight of my life. I would mask the dark side of my soul no longer. Not today. Today, I would let it have me, let it get _exactly_ what it wanted.


	11. Chapter 11

**Yesss. A prompt chapter, guys! :0**

**This was a fun chapter to write. It's intense. Thank you to my regular reviewers, including all you anonymous guys that I can't send a thanks to.  
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**The opinion is actually sorta tied on who should take on the POV in the next chapter. I'm narrowing this down to RED Scout or Medic! I think I have it picked out, but there's still time for you to express your thoughts in a review! :3 Disclaimer: Gaaaaaben owns the characters, goyz.  
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"_When the blameless and the righteous die, the very gods for vengeance cry_." – Vlad Taltos

Pain and hate. It does unimaginable things to a person. It wraps its vicious grip around your spirit, crushing and draining all humanity from it in a wildly malicious manner. Pain is the precursor of hate, its cousin if you will. And there is no good in revenge except to fuel the hate and numb the pain. But sometimes- just sometimes- justice warrants vengeance. Justice must ask vengeance to hold its hand through battle, to push it to a powerful level, just as the REDS and BLUS linked skills to fight the common enemy. Sometimes you must fight a merciless and cruel battle to get things done.

And get things done is exactly what we were trying to accomplish. It had been four hours since the start of this violent battle, and though our spirits had not dampened under the pressure of a screaming thunderstorm, minds and thoughts were winding down to the barren wire. Our bodies were crying for rest. As you know though, resting was not an option tonight.

I'd never seen such a storm. It must have been magic, whatever brought this soaked atmosphere over the deserts of New Mexico. Our boots smacked against the puddles made deep by the earthy scars of battle, and the explosions sent waves of thick mud over us. I'd never seen any of us so drenched, so covered in dirt that even the rain couldn't completely wash off. Every once in a while I would spot Spy, who had long ago discarded his ruined vest and dress shirt, for once in his life no longer caring about how dapper he appeared. He looked like a true mercenary, a gritty foot-soldier of Team Fortress in his blood-stained undershirt. I wished he wasn't cloaked so often. I feared the thought that he may be dead somewhere on the dark battlefield.

I was mindless: the anger that laced my actions caused me to act recklessly, nearly costing my life two or three times throughout the night. The visual of Pyro's corpse was seared into the few thoughts I had left. It drove me, pushed me past limits I'd never crossed. And though my fighting wasn't always smart, I had caused more destruction than I thought ever capable of myself.

The team didn't approve of my behavior, but no one dared argue, not even Soldier. They knew what I was going through. They knew I wasn't me.

The battle had grown dangerously close to the edge of the base. The robots were forcing us closer to the walls with every wave that dispersed from that wretched tank. They hadn't come close to the main gate yet, but one of the sentry busters had managed to blow the entrance open. It was only a matter of time before we had to disperse in order to protect the other side of the base. One of the Engineers had already went through the passage into the sewers to set up his buildings on the other side in the case that a few metal Scouts strayed from the frontlines.

Sniper was still on his perch, blasting away at anything that emerged from the enemy vehicle. I hadn't returned to my position by the stairs since Pyro had... left us. Now, I was down in the dirt, firing away with my SMG with the force and determination of a Heavy. I'd even kept the BLU Demoman's grenade launcher, though explosives weren't my specialty. But in a situation like this, against such a vast opposition, it was basically point and fire, as quickly as possible. My arms were incredibly sore, but I didn't have time to take a break.

"SENTRY DOWN!" Cried the BLU Engineer nearby.

I turned just as the metallic-clad Spy attempted to escape while the turret exploded. I walked towards it, eyes fixed in a fiery wrath as I sprayed bullets into the heart it lacked. No mercy. The robot fell over with a familiar cry of false pain before I gritted my teeth, kicking its head off its shoulders forcefully. I bent over and began gathering up the broken metal pieces, carrying them to the Engineer quickly. He thanked me hastily, taking them from my arms before he quickly began setting up a new sentry.

I turned back around, and suddenly cried out angrily as a bullet tore into my shoulder. Looking down and breathing harshly, I spotted the BLU laser trembling over my chest. With sudden force, I was knocked off my feet before the opposing Sniper could take the kill shot. Heavy, my savior, picked me up again when I was behind cover, warning me to be more careful. I responded with a nod and I gathered myself as best I could.

Before I could reach back down to pick up my gun, someone behind me pulled me back up by my good shoulder. I looked around angrily, demanding an explanation.

"No lass, you needa get to the Medic. Yeh bin' takin' shots all night long, and haven't been tah see 'im once." Demoman stated in serious tone, his good eye glancing from me to the spot he'd placed his stickies, in case an enemy treaded over them.

"No. I don't." I growled in response, bending back over to get my SMG. And again he jerked me back, only this time he grabbed my wounded shoulder, causing me to hiss in agony.

He kept his hand there, squeezing warningly. "Now."

My eyes lingered on him hatefully for one more moment, but I obeyed. I walked quickly to the respawn room and opened the door, slamming it shut behind me, muffling the gunfire outside. Medic left the window he was staring out of when I entered. I stood in the center of the room, clenching my fists like a pouting child. "Fix me, doc."

He half-smiled at my 'I-hate-going-to-the-doctor' face. His grin was not entirely genuine though. We were getting beaten back out there, after all. He gestured for me to sit down while he swiftly gathered what he needed to lessen my wounds before he used the medi-gun. I sat down on the bench, my right shoulder hanging limply. The doctor kneeled before me, still having to hunch a little, as I wasn't very tall. I didn't speak as he wiped away what blood the rain hadn't washed off already. My eye flinched from the pain, but I remained quiet, staring blankly ahead of me. My ears were ringing from the constant sound of shots being fired around me for hours on end.

I wouldn't admit it, but it felt nice to be in a somewhat quiet area for some amount of time. I had killed plenty of people, been around all types of weaponry, but never had to fight this hard for such an extended period of time. To be totally honest, I never focused this much during our battles against BLU. I always got paid at the end of the week, regardless. This must have been what those in the war felt like, constantly in fear of losing their life- no respawn.

"I need you to lie down, Freundin." The Medic murmured, pulling me out of my silent stare.

I obeyed, quickly lying flat across the bench, staring just as quietly at the ceiling. I wanted him to get it over with. I wanted to get back out and tear more of those bastards apart. He began to disinfect the wound and I couldn't help but knit my eyebrows together at the stinging sensation. I felt him glance up at me, more than once. At first I ignored him, but then I slowly turned my head to meet his gaze questioningly. I tried not to look angry. It was difficult.

He watched me for a few seconds before sighing and looking back down at his work. "I'm just worried about you. We all are."

I stared back up at the ceiling before muttering, "What else is new?"

The doctor didn't respond for another moment as he continued to clean the bullet-hole. I huffed, looking around the room, before I finally got impatient.

"You gonna rub the bullet outta there or something, doc?"

"Nein."

I expected him to become irritated with my sarcastic remark, but he merely kept his eyes lowered patiently, softly. For a moment, he looked like my father and the dead stare on my face was replaced with one of mild awe. That gentle look in his eyes, yet with dark hair disheveled from stress. Just like dad in his office. I quickly averted my eyes, swallowing and scanning above me for nothing in particular.

"You need to rest, if only for a few moments. Just be grateful for it. You may not get anozzer chance."

He was right. My arms ached from reloading and swinging my kukri all night, not to mention fighting off the multiple Scouts that had thrown themselves at me. If I lived through this, I may wish I was dead when I woke up sore for a week straight. Even the medi-gun couldn't cure everything. It was mainly good for healing major burns and cuts, but other wounds would sometimes linger for a few days, even bruised muscles.

"How are you?" I was again startled by him.

I exhaled as I spoke, "My shoulder hurts, if you can't guess."

This time he did give me a stern look. "Not vat I meant."

I didn't respond at first, but he waited patiently. I seemed to be one of the only team members he was tolerant towards. I didn't know if it was because he felt sorry for me, or because I'm a woman. I took my time, closing my eyes again and sighing.

"You know how I'm doing, doctor."

"Ja." He agreed. "I just…vish you vould be more careful out zere."

I swallowed. "Yeah…yeah, I know."

He looked up at me once more. "Alvight, I'm going to take a look at ze bullet now. Hold still. It vill hurt."

I nodded as he sifted through his things, searching for something beside him that I couldn't see. I preferred not to look at what he was going to be sticking inside of me though. An explosion sounded outside, fairly close to us and I jumped, eyes widening. Medic quickly placed a gloveless hand on my chest to keep me from moving. He stood up and took a few steps back, leaning to peer outside the window. I watched his face eagerly for any sign of shock or fear. To my relief though, he returned with a somewhat calm expression. "All is gut. Zey must haff destroyed a sentry buster before it got too close."

He kneeled back down beside of me, picking up whatever it was he was about to use on me. I turned my head away, breathing a sigh of relief. Then I couldn't help but nearly cry out when I felt him push something into the hole in my arm.

"Strange. I figured ze bullet would haff went straight through-"

"Doc?" I cut him off, still looking away.

He paused, to my discomfort as I felt the metal piece linger in my arm. "Yes?"

After a moment of thought, I continued. "You remember when you told me that…agh!... Spy may see me as a trophy?"

He looked down, placing a hand on my shoulder as he looked around in my bloody mess of a wound. He sounded mildly uncomfortable by my sudden intimate change of topic.

"Ja."

I wasn't sure if I should continue or not. It was hard to tell whether he was uninterested, or didn't want to seem too nosy. I stared at him, my eyes unsure.

"Do you…do you think he really feels that way?"

I asked him this, because of all people, I felt he could read others the easiest. He was just as observant as I was at times, noticing mannerisms and behavior better than most. I don't know what I wanted him to say. I don't know what was appropriate at a time like this. Spy was a hard man to read, and I could never be sure if I was merely his plaything or if there was actually something there.

The doctor looked at me, caught off-guard by my question, his lips slightly parted. It was as though he were trying to interpret my thoughts, to figure out what was going through my mind. I suddenly felt embarrassed and I lowered my eyes shamefully. Maybe this wasn't the right time to talk about things like this.

He cast his gaze back to my shoulder as he spoke. "Do you vant my honest opinion?"

Meeting his eyes again, I nodded. Of course. Would he tell me otherwise?

He shook his head slightly. "I don't know."

I tightened my lips and watched the ceiling once more. It was a mistake to ask him such a question. I had only set myself up for more disappointment, more than I had already felt tonight. I winced when he pulled the instrument out of me and picked up another. This time, he slowly slid what looked like a pair of tweezers or small tongs into the wound, being careful not to press it too hard against the tissue inside my arm.

"Here goes."

I held my breath and clenched my jaw. With a sickening noise, he slid the metal piece out and I stifled a yell. It was over, just like that. I heard the bullet clink against the floor tiles as the Medic stood up. I exhaled deeply, and my upper arm throbbed. He wiped the excess blood from his hands before turning to get his medigun from the opposing wall. "You can sit up now if you like. Do you have any more serious wounds?"

I sat upright, gingerly touching the skin beneath the opened wound. "No, nothing too bad, a few cuts and bruises." I rolled my eyes, recalling Demoman's exaggerated observation.

Medic approached and took a seat beside me on the bench. With a few clicks, he powered the medigun on, and pulled back the crank as rays of red light flowed from the end, immediately sensing my body heat and carrying over my skin. Respawning was never a fun experience, but I always liked the warm caress of the medigun, though sometimes the feeling of skin reattaching itself stung.

He rested the gun in his lap as we both watched the ground solemnly, muted gunshots emitting from the door to our left. It was depressing, the numbness of death that surrounded all of us, the thought of Gray Mann swelling in pride at every casualty he inflicted. How I longed to be sitting in the cafeteria, on a Saturday evening while Spy, Soldier, and Engie played poker, and Demoman drank obnoxious amounts of Scrumpy. I remember when the kitchen caught fire while Pyro attempted to teach Scout to make fillets. Thank god Heavy appeared with the fire extinguisher while the Medic stood behind him, screaming German insults at Scout, furious with the fact this damage would be drawn from _all_ their paychecks. I couldn't help but smile halfheartedly, temporarily void of the bleak disposition I held only moments ago.

Said doctor's words startled me. "It is done."

I looked down at my shoulder, eyeing the fleshy scar that now brandished it. "Thanks."

"You look more and more like a mercenary every day, Freundin."

"Yeah." I stood up from the bench, stretching my limbs. "Thanks, Doc."

This time he really smiled, nodding. "Doing my job."

I turned for the door, and had it pushed open just as he spoke up behind me once more.

"Be careful. I am sure he would like to see you live through zis."

I couldn't help but look back at him, verifying his sincerity. His face was earnest. That would have to do, I suppose. Though nothing he told me yet had the reassuring effect I longed. I nodded, closing the door behind me to yet again face the shimmering battle in the night ahead. A Sniper's bullet barely missed my shoulder.

* * *

Two hours had passed since my doctor visit. I prayed with everything in me that it was close to the end, and I speak for all of my teammates. We were visibly sluggish as compared to the beginning of the dragging conflict. I was constantly out of breath, exhausted from the effects of dodging, running, enduring the recoil of the occasional monstrous guns I was forced to use for an hour or so while Engie worked on those that became damaged or overheated. The BLU Engineer suffered from several broken ribs after a sentry buster had sent him flying into the side of the base, scaring all of us greatly at the sight. But that was the extent of the damage, miraculously.

We were hanging on by a thread on the frontlines and would have to make a run for the back soon, fighting them off at the same time. It would be difficult. I was gathering ammunition from the blue dispenser when it's creator approached me, fingers hovering over his injured side. I was surprised he wasn't bleeding internally.

"Listen, you needa git back there, go through the tunnel. They'll figure it out at some point, and you can pick 'em off if they try ta come in."

I looked at him, surprised. "And when will you be going through?"

The southerner peered behind him at the chaos, unrelenting and painfully consistent. I tried to see his face, indifferent towards the idea of bailing on everyone right now.

He turned back to me. "Someone's gotta stay up front to help thin 'em out."

"Engineer-"

"Can you do that?" His face was set, and I imagined he was as tired as I was.

I bit my lip, looking down at the bullets gleaming in my hand. Then I proceeded to nod, shoving them into my back pocket and watching him sympathetically. The sentry behind him fired at a constant pace.

"I'll see you back there." I murmured, never looking away from him as I waited for him to confirm my statement. He didn't.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in anguish and irritation, and turned to approach the exit hurriedly, without another word. I had to keep my mind off of it. I took one last look at everyone around me, counting the mercenaries and hoping to count the same number when we were all in the back of the base.

I closed the heavy door behind me, listening for the click before stepping down into the disgusting water. The dim lights that ran across the tunnel flickered pathetically, most likely due to the weather. No one had been in this part of the sewers in years. The walls were less than sanitary, and the catwalk beside of me was corroded. The smell wasn't too nice either.

I pulled out my kukri and sloshed my way down the tunnel, wary of anything dripping on me and giving me the plague. I ducked under a broken lighting fixture and picked a dark shadow to crouch into, lifting my rifle to sit in in my lap. I eyed the door some thirty feet ahead of me. The occasional muffled explosion could be heard, but for the most part, the sewers were soundproof. I was agitated, unable to sit still while I could hear the faint cries of my teammates outside.

_The boys will be fine, _I tried to convince myself.

Nothing terrified me more than the thought of Scout exploding from an ill-timed leap into the path of a rocket, of Engie, alone and stabbed to death by a stray Spy bot. What made me cringe the most was the familiar image of Spy's lean body crumbling as a Sniper's bullet tore through his skull. After I had spoken to him like a child. Guilt washed over me in a wave and I sighed heavy-heartedly. At least I felt something other than nothing for a moment. I'm sure he would be okay.

I thought of my family, of where they might be, and where they guessed I might be. Did they even wonder? I'll never forget my mother's screaming when I had told her I had killed people. I'd never forget the fear on my brother's face. And most of all, I could never possibly forget the look of despair in my father's eyes. It crushed my heart to see his trust and faith in me falter in a mere instance, the blink of an eye. My family hadn't spoken to me since, and I'd been living in the regret for years now. However, it was something I only got better at, as my family continued to push me away, ignoring all attempts at reunion- even when I offered to give up guns for good.

I shifted uncomfortably, still staring dead-eyed at the door. I'd hoped I wouldn't need to be down here all night, it was hard telling when the end would come. It left too much time for me to think, to recall the dark things that had happened. The sound of running water was almost high pitched within the echoing walls of the sewers- it grinded my nerves.

Then I heard something else that made me jump. I held up my kukri as the rifle in my lap fell into the water, quickly floating away from me. There, at the end of the short tunnel that branched to my right, stood the BLU Spy.

"You." He growled.

I lowered my weapon, exhaling deeply. "You scared me. What the fuck are you doing down here, spook?"

He was different. It hit me that I hadn't seen him thoughout the battle- not even once I believed. He looked- bloodthirsty almost. His eyes were wild with what looked like rage and stress. He began to step toward me, and his breathing was ragged, as though he had been running.

"Spook. What happened to you?"

I leaned back suspiciously. He was making his way over to me slowly, and he was much less graceful than usual. I continued to search his eyes in confusion, trying to place what was happening. Then something familiar clicked. His face could've mirrored my own when I left Pyro's corpse in a newfound mentality. Thanatos.

"You. You…did zis." He said accusatorily, his voice hoarse like he'd been screaming. This sight almost frightened me.

"What are you talking ab- _AGGGGHH_!" I roared in pain as he shot me in my bad shoulder with his revolver. I hadn't expected this at all. I knew he hated me, but I was confused as to why he was attacking _me_, rather than the obvious threat outside.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU _DOING_?!" I sat up from the foul water, clutching my arm tightly, trying to push myself away from him as he continued to approach me, gun in hand. He was under a spell was the only way I could describe it. Something had happened to him since we had argued during the party. I sucked in air through my teeth as I continued to push myself back clumsily towards the door. I wasn't moving very fast. My heart rattled in fear.

"You did it. You're ze one who ruined _everything_."

Was he crying?

I looked at him incredulously as he towered over me. "Listen, Spook- you gotta tell me what the hell you're saying." Blood was pouring profusely from my shoulder now, as the old wound had been reopened as well. He kicked the kukri from my hand, reached down and jerked me up by my shirt, making me cry out again. His reddened, malicious eyes bore into me, seething in hatred. I could only gape at him as he fumed before me.

With sudden clarity, I jerked my knee upwards, nailing him in the stomach. He stumbled back with a grunt as I fell to the ground. I twisted back and began to reach frantically for my blade that only rested a few feet behind me. Before I could grab the handle, I heard the sickening noise of metal grinding and looked up. I gasped, jumping for the kukri before I felt the horrifying impact of the Spy's new weapon. He crushed my tibia easily with the metal pipe he'd wrenched off the catwalk railing. I screamed in blinding agony, paralyzed by the pain in my leg, as my attempt to gain my weapon failed.

My breathing was reduced to desperate gasps now as my eyes stayed glued to him warily. My body was shaking now and I tried to prop myself up.

He squatted over me and clutched the back of my hair, pulling me up towards him as I whimpered.

"You killed her!"

"I-I don't-", I stuttered quickly, "Who are you-"

"MY DAUGHTER! _YOU_ WERE ZE ONE WHO MURDERED MY DAUGHTER!"

At that, I stopped my nonsensical rant in confusion. I panted, staring at him with wide eyes, his fingers never letting go of my hair.

And then I realized what he had just said. Suddenly, I felt nauseas as my face dropped in disbelief.

"Yes." He hissed. "You remember now."

I didn't know what to say to him, my expression becoming more and more horrified at the thought. The realization that this was the father. This entire time, I had been fighting the father. I had never felt so empty in my entire life as I shook my head slowly, not out of denial, but of shock and regret. All of this. It was all for _nothing_. I'd come to the wrong place after all.

He pulled his knife out and swiftly cut a deep gash across my chest and I inhaled sharply. He was going to kill me slowly. Violently.

"Spy…" I barely whispered as tears began to fall from my eyes, my face twisted in anguish. "You have no idea- how sorry I am."

"YOU'RE SORRY?!"

He shoved my face around and down into the water, my skin dragging across the disgustingly slick surface of the sewer floor. I flailed my legs and arms but he quickly had them pinned. I spat out nothing but bubbles as I attempted to scream. I was becoming desperate for air and his grip tightened in my hair painfully. "YOU'RE _SORRY_?"

He pulled me back up as I gasped and began to sob pitifully. I wasn't crying merely out of physical pain, but intense emotional regret as well, the images beginning to flood my mind again. Of the dead child, the desperately destroyed mother- this man's wife no doubt. I had ruined this man's life, his family, and he had found me- rightfully. I could do nothing, couldn't even blame him for wanting to kill me. I would have probably done the same in his situation- eliminate the problem. Allow the darkness to get its vengeance. As I said before: vengeance and justice.

He was leaning down in my face again, knife pressed against my jugular threateningly. "You took away my family, destroyed my marriage, and you expect me to forgive you?"

"No!" I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut dishonorably. "No, I don't ever expect that."

He spat before backhanding me harshly, never letting go of the back of my head. "WHY? What possessed you- to murder a _child_?"

"It wasn't ever supposed to happen." I replied quietly, my voice cracking.

He didn't believe me, and I doubt he cared to try. The muted sounds of battle echoed down the passage as he crouched over me, causing me pain every second I lie beneath him. He swiveled the knife upward, leaving a cut up my jawline. This time the corner of his mouth twitched. There came the psychotic side that hid inside every mercenary, that didn't always come out. Blood dripped down the side of my neck, onto his bare forearm, staining the white cotton at the crook of his elbow. I winced, still refusing to meet his eyes miserably.

"You know", he breathed, holding the metal pipe in front of him, "I'm glad I didn't kill you. Because now I can do it ze way it was meant to be done."

He jerked me upright so that I was sitting in the filthy sewage with my legs stretched out before me. I began to sob helplessly. There was no way I could even stand up, if I wanted to. He stood between my legs, the bottoms of his slacks stained and soaked as water pushed past us. All seemed too quiet again. That's always when I could tell a fatal mistake had been made. He reached for something in his back pocket, but I didn't look up to see what it was. I was numb.

"I hope you burn in hell, you useless brat. Tell Redmond and Blutarch I said hello."

Slowly, he smirked and twisted the pole behind his back, preparing for a fatal crack to my temple. This was it, sudden and pathetic. I squeezed my eyes closed again, breathing through my teeth and apologizing to my family silently. I opened them just in time to see the pipe swing down, but also to hear a gunshot sound off behind me. I fell sideways, blinded by the trauma as the sounds around me began to disappear gradually. I heard a splash, then someone crying out for a Medic in a panicked tone. It felt like I was vibrating, or someone was shaking me, or maybe I was just trembling again. Either way, everything was gone in a matter of seconds. I didn't know if I was dying or not- but I certainly didn't mind it those last few seconds. Perhaps I had deserved it.

* * *

**Who was the "someone"?** **I dunnooo...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Derp. Well, I decided to do something a little different than I had originally planned. First POV will be Medic's, due to popular demand (thanks for the reviews and PM's offering the advice, btw :3), the second is our good 'ol male Snipes. To be totally honest, while I spent a good amount of time on this, I'm not totally proud of it, I suppose since I'm not used to writing in the POV of other people -sniff-. BUT- anywho, I hope you all enjoy the bickering mercenaries, because that's basically what you're gonna get. :) Do leave a review and let me know how I did. You won't hurt my feelings, I'm a big girl!  
**

* * *

RED Medic POV:

It was insufferable, every time the Scout wailed my name from god-knows-where. I placed my glasses back on my nose and stood as the boy pounded what I supposed to be his foot- against the door. I was a wreck. I'd done nothing but sit and worry for six and a half hours and it was beginning to wear me down. Nothing compared to my teammates though. They looked positively tragic.

Not as tragic as the sight I beheld after opening the door.

Scout stood, legs shaking, his features panic-stricken. In his arms dangled Sniper, blood sputtering from her mouth, her limbs twitching.

"She's dyin', doc." The boy groaned miserably as I moved to take her from him. "She's…he hit her- hit her real hard in da head."

I couldn't think to speak words for a few moments as I carried her hurriedly to the table next to the window, setting her down quickly. The Scout protested- saying I dropped her too hard, but shut up when I swatted a gloved hand in his direction dismissively. I moved to grab my things, looking around in a rush at everything I had down here. Nothing. I couldn't do _anything_ with this measly equipment. I needed the infirmary.

Frustrated and at a loss, I turned and moved the girl onto her side so that she could breathe easier, though the choking was beginning to alarm me.

"Scout- who? Vat happened?" I demanded, propping her head up to make sure the blood came out and not back into her lungs.

"Th-the spook! The BLU one! He was in th' sewah with her, an'-"

"_He_ did this?" I snapped, looking up at him disbelievingly. "Not a robot?"

The boy shook his head. He was scared. Rightfully, I suppose.

"And vere is he now?" I asked turning back down to my work, though I was still deciding what to do. I was running out of time, quickly.

"I got 'im."

I nodded, but wasn't sure why. Maybe it was best if he were gone. Though I'm not sure how the Administrator might react. Helen had the tendency to lean towards the wrong side of things, to test out those of us who expressed any concern towards her motives. She liked to be feared, and she liked to be obeyed.

"Okay. I need you to get ze ozzer Medic, Scout." He stood there, watching me like a deer in headlights. "_Now_! Tell him vat happened, zat it's an emergency. And don't let anyone follow you, we need everyone out zere."

The boy nodded and scurried through the door, leaving me to watch the half-breathing, gurgling mess of a woman I had not healed but 2 hours earlier. The medi-gun would not fix this. Internal injuries were hard to patch up, and Scout was extremely lucky he'd not lost his life earlier. Though, he visibly held more promise than this- literally _broken,_ woman. I'm not sure what exactly we could do with her on such short notice. It was a pity- I'd found her humorous, but also very empathetic. She cared about people, maybe too easily for someone in this field of work. It was different though, having the warm heart of a woman around. Someone who didn't have pit-stains or testosterone. All she wanted was a job, and a few people to show her friendship. The medical testing and psycho-analysis I'd performed on her during her little- _dark_ moments- showed that she was merely starved of human interaction. All Snipers were used to being alone of course, but this one had suffered specific loss. That was what I guessed anyway. I lost my license, but I wasn't stupid.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. First my BLU counterpart stepped through, searching the room for the patient. But then two gloved hands forced him back, and Spy came rushing through with an alarmed look on his features. Out of breath, he nearly leapt to the table, peering down at the girl. Scout had followed him in, yelling apologies over the gunfire outside, saying the Spy had been listening to him talking to the other Medic.

"What is zis?" The masked man demanded, fingers hovering over Sniper's wounded shoulder.

"Spy, I need you-"

"_Who did zis?" _

I sighed impatiently, shaking my head. "We need to get her to ze infirmary. If you'll step aside for a moment, we can talk in a moment."

The Spy slammed his fist onto the table with sudden fury and I pulled my hands back from the girl.

"ANSWER ME!"

He was intoxicated with fear, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was feeling guilty. I knew exactly why, we all did. Scout repeated what he told me earlier, quietly from behind the other doctor. The respawn room was silent, punctuated with gunfire and explosions. The man wearing the balaclava stood back, torn between emotions as he rubbed his face in exasperation. An inner struggle played itself out for only a few moments. The Spy was a decent man, though confused. I had gotten to know him slightly, but all in all, we weren't particularly warmhearted toward one another. It was hard for anyone to grow fond of the Spy, of his jagged personality. This was why I had warned Sniper of him, and also why it puzzled me that she was somehow infatuated with him. The look in her eyes shifted when he entered the room.

I remember that night when she had first arrived. Spy, Soldier and I sat at one of the tables, playing poker after winning a glorious battle earlier that day. The poor thing was frightened, though she did a considerable job at hiding it for a girl in her early twenties. I recalled how her eyes had moved between all of us, taking us in. And when those clear green orbs caught those of my masked companion, from thereon out, it was merely nervous glances and rosy cheeks. Love at first sight I might say, if I believed in such nonsense. The Spy though- he was much harder to read in the beginning.

I looked at the BLU doctor, unsure of what to do with the flustered man between us. It was then that I'd realized Spy had swept the girl back up, tilting her head to the side gently. I waited, not expecting this newfound tenderness. He turned to glance at me viciously. "Go."

I obeyed, understanding his intentions before I signaled the other Medic to follow us. Scout tried to tag along but I demanded him to stay behind and help everyone else. When we were outside, cringing back from the battle, several members of both teams had to double-take. The other Sniper's brow furrowed as he stopped firing his weapon. "Aye- wot in the bloody-"

"Back off, bush man." The Spy hissed, walking along the back wall to the broken-down gate. The man in blue ignored the comment, staring at the body in his arms, face tinged in worry. After all three of us had urged him to return to the fight, we made our way through the insides of the base, the BLU medigun beam concentrating on the girl to make up for whatever time we'd wasted. Her coughing had almost completely subsided, and while running at the pace we were, I couldn't tell if that was good, or if she was in the process of suffocating.

The Spy switched their positions, realizing her change in behavior, now holding her like an infant, her bloodied chin resting on his shoulder as he pounded her back with his fist. Another hack rip from her throat as droplets landed on my boots. The other Medic and I suggested methods to use in the lab to keep her stable, calling to one another in fluent German. We didn't have many options.

We crashed through the doors of the BLU base, following the long-legged Spy ahead of us. The girl had begun to convulse again as the man held onto her with a fierce and desperate grip. This wasn't her body reacting to the shock of pain; her system was threatening to shut down on itself.

"She's suffering from brain damage." I said to the BLU Medic, out of breath as we reached the medi-bay through a pair of familiar bullet-proofed doors. The infirmary was unscathed and welcoming, the consistent beeps and clicks surrounding us rather than cross-fire. The battle was still within hearing distance, though. I jerkily wheeled a bed from the corner of the room while the other doctor took off his lab coat, his forehead shining with beads of sweat.

After the Spy had laid her down, he gazed at her helplessly while we prepared out work. I was pulling a few things from the cabinet when I noticed him hesitantly brush a strand of hair back from her pale face. I shook my head. He shouldn't have acted like a self-righteous fool, then maybe he wouldn't feel so out of place around everyone all the time. If he would stop doting on himself all the time, he wouldn't _need_ to feel guilty.

"Step back." I murmured, standing behind him.

He looked at me frantically, with a hint of hostility, before he moved back a couple of feet to watch us, his heels clicking characteristically. I examined the side of her head gingerly, my fingers placed carefully along her skull. He had most definitely struck to kill. Perhaps the impact was broken once Scout had shot him. I felt he would have accomplished his goal no problem unless he was distracted. Hopefully the boy had arrived at the right time. It didn't look good so far.

While my associate performed the same procedure on her shoulder that I had only hours earlier, I felt the Spy approaching me.

"Doctor."

I didn't move my eyes from the patient. "Vat is it?"

He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.

"Is she going to live?"

I exhaled, putting on a new pair of gloves and picking up a scalpel. The tall man's eyes lowered to the instrument, wary of my intentions as I turned around. I didn't know what to say to him. He looked almost fragile in his state, almost like an actual human being and I knew he'd felt stronger about the situation than he let on.

I opened my mouth, but was cut off by a monstrous blast that shook the very foundations of the building we stood in. The lights began to swing back and forth as the Spy grabbed onto the edge of the bed, his eyes wild in surprise. It sounded like someone had set off a bomb, though we were all standing alive and well in the safety of the BLU base. The other doctor was in the process of hooking her into a heart-monitor, but the tubes he held in his hands went flying as he stumbled back, arms out to save the monitor from tumbling over.

It was over after a few moments and everything settled down. We'd lost a few jars of burn cream, which lie shattered on the floor, but that wasn't really an issue. The Spy regained his balance and fled out into the corridor, to look outside I presumed. I continued my work quickly, unable to waste any more time. My counterpart resumed pushing needles into her skin. She coughed up more blood, which spattered across the wide bed below her; how she wasn't already dead from blood-loss amazed me.

I stopped what I was doing when I heard the slow click of shoes on the opposite side of the room. There stood Spy, who nodded when I met his gaze. The other doctor stopped as well, turning to see what had happened.

I was bent over the girl when I murmured to him once more. "It is done, ja?"

He merely nodded again.

The battle was finally over, and we were still alive.

* * *

A few hours later, post-victory was either a blast for each teammate, or an approach to despair. Four or five of the mercs had gone straight to their beds, a little more than that resided in the cafeteria drinking Scrumpy. The remainder sat outside of the infirmary on uncomfortable chairs, heads bowed, occasionally speaking to one another. Apparently our Engineer had been lost in battle. No one had bothered to inform me until about an hour after our victory. They were afraid of me, as happened at times when I wasn't in the best of moods, especially when I receive grave news so late. I can't deny that I've participated in strange and sometimes borderline cruel experiments in my labs, and they knew this.

The Administrator was still out of reach, as we had to wait until HQ could fight off security breaches, which were still taking effect as long as the machines continued to attack different locations. We figured this also meant respawn was still down, but no one volunteered to try it until we could get ahold of Helen again. The side of the base where the majority of fighting took place was positively a loss. No one would bother to have it reconstructed- not that we were ever back there.

Lastly, progress on our female comrade was shaky, and I couldn't be sure if she would be the same again. By that, I mean the trauma to her head was alarming. The other Medic and I had to perform several procedures on her, which included cutting her leg open to replace the shattered bone with a steel replacement. The medi-gun took care of the gashes on her chest and face, the second bullet-hole in her shoulder, and the incision we had to make up her leg; but she would always have those scars, reminding her every day of what had happened.

The process in all had taken a couple of hours, and we allowed each member in one by one to visit her. The first visitor of course, was Spy, who could be seen shoving back teammates at the entrance once it was open. He cursed in French before slamming the door on Scout's fingers, who swore angrily on the other side, backing away. The door was securely closed and locked before the man turned around, his eyes widened slightly as he approached the side of the bed. He had showered, now sporting his vest again. Thank goodness- most of them still hadn't gotten around to bathing.

He stood over her, his eyes flitting over each scar, each wound. Everything was not completely healed, including all the damage dealt to the side of her head, and her tibia, for some unfortunate reason. His gloved hand hovered over her chest before gently touching the scar that lingered there, glancing from the sight to her face constantly, as though she might cry out in pain.

"Can…can she hear us? Is she awake?"

I shrugged, responding as though it were a pointless question. "Maybe. It's difficult to know."

His face looked as though I had told him something agonizing before he peered back down at her. He had dark circles around his eyes, the whites tinted in red. He was exhausted like the rest of them- though his demeanor would suggest otherwise. He was nervous, something usually not visible in the Frenchmen.

We stood there for a while as he placed strands of hair behind her ear, or occasionally ran a finger along one of her scars as though he felt guilty this had happened to her. I watched the entire time; took a seat, put a book in my lap that I never seemed to open. I removed my gloves and rested my chin in my hand.

"Zo… you two know each ozzer vell?"

The tall man's brow furrowed. "I'm not stupid, Doctor. And neither are you, so stop pretending to be ignorant."

I shrugged. "I haff never seen you act so enthralled in her. I merely ask so zat I am not confused on ze matter."

"I was confused for some time."

At this, I didn't speak for a moment. It wasn't characteristic of Spy to not be certain about something, especially an issue with himself.

"Und vat vill you do when she avakens?" I prodded. I knew his temper was diminutive at the moment, but I was uncaring as to whether or not I might be bothering him.

The man scolded. "And whatever are you implying with zat question?"

"It's just a question."

"I don't _know_- what is it you want me to say?" He snapped.

I shrugged again, looking away while rubbing the back of my neck. I had dismissed the other doctor earlier and suddenly wished I had taken him up on his offer to watch the girl. I missed the feeling of my bed. Not to mention I now had to deal with a very cranky Frenchman. Lack of a _different_ Sniper caused me to somehow become the target of the man's foul humor and insults these past few years. Perhaps it was because I was the only one intelligent enough to comprehend and retort to his provoking remarks.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a soft rapping on the door. I pinched the bridge of my nose beneath my glasses. "You haff to share visiting hours eventually, Spy."

The man merely grumbled disinterestedly as I approached the door, opening it for the guest. There stood the BLU Sniper, Akubra in hand solemnly. The sight of the man standing at the door, second in line to see our Sniper, suddenly made something in my mind click. I couldn't _presume_ things, but I groaned anyway, certain of the awkward experience that may ensue. I held the door open nonetheless.

The man behind me audibly shifted.

"And what do you zink _you_ are doing?"

"Oi'm mindin' moi own business, spook."

"Non." He retorted disapprovingly. "Zis does not _concern_ you, bushman."

The Australian had approached the other side of the bed anyway, irritation striking his features as he sat his hat beside the girl's feet. "Last time oi checked, this was our base. I dunno what you're thinkin' ya rat- but I ain't here t' fight with ya."

Spy scoffed, taking a cigarette from his case before rolling his eyes, "As if I should even have a concern."

They continued like this, back and forth- for almost ten whole minutes, getting everything out of their systems. This would be the only reason I allowed it to persist. Otherwise, I would have shunned them from the room with a string of German curses. I was also tired, too tired to deal with these Dummkopfs. I removed my glasses, rubbing my head in frustration as the bickering continued. But then, something the Sniper said caught my attention.

"She loves ya, an' you won't even give 'er the toime of day."

I looked up carefully at the man opposite him, whose face looked both offended and surprised. I was standing in the middle of a damned soap opera. Everyone would continue on with their dramatic arguments while I played the shadow characters that opened doors, and oh, just healed the sick- that's all. But this was getting ridiculous, really. The Spy opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and took a seething drag from his cigarette instead. I spoke up before I got caught in any more of the crossfire.

"Do you zink you two can watch her wizzout giving her a seizure, due to your useless fighting?"

Both men laid eyes on me, obviously having forgotten I was present. The man in blue looked at his adversary, as though he were responsible for an answer- which he was, in a way.

"Oui." Spy muttered, looking back down at our Sniper's limp body.

"Danke."

I quickly made my way out of the infirmary, eager to get away from the two arguing fools. I didn't hear anymore condescending remarks as I walked quietly down the hallway. The Spy obviously wasn't leaving the infirmary any time soon, and I wouldn't make the mistake of giving up time to sleep again. The walls looked as though they were moving and my stomach gurgled angrily.

At least we had won the battle, with a miraculously low number of casualties. It was only twice as long as a typical day against the opposing team, but it was indeed wrought with twice the pain and fear. I supposed a casual ceasefire would be in order until things were settled again. We'd depleted nearly all of our weaponry and ammo. That reminded me- our leave was in two days. A seven-day excuse to leave the base. Of course, circumstances had changed, but I imagine that wouldn't stop us from getting away from this wretched place. I didn't really care if the Administrator cut our pay or not- even then it would be a generous price for our efforts.

The remainder of the day held nothing but deep thoughts and dreams, as flashes of metallic foes surfaced into my mind repeatedly. It was almost like the war in intensity- save for actual human bodies. That cold, brutal and merciless war some decades ago that I was not proud to say I had participated in. However, I had a family to keep safe, threats to answer in order to maintain that protection. Not that any of it was worth the effort. This girl stood out to me because she had gone through the same thing: witnessed the countless deaths of others, including those she granted it to. She had lost family. I didn't know the details, wasn't sure if they were dead or just distant, but it was immediately obvious to me. I'd experienced those phases in my youth- the darkness. I still did, occasionally. I'd also gone through exactly what the RED Spy was experiencing. I pictured his masked face, confusion stirring his emotions, making him feel something he didn't want to feel. Some are more experienced than others, but we all feel the ache of a broken heart at some point. Even when you're as twisted as I can be- it never feels good.

* * *

BLU Sniper POV:

He wouldn't stop pacing, the French mongrel. I leaned over, eyeing the impressive damage dealt to my counterpart's head. I'd never seen the spook do anything like _this _before. Something must have come up, just recently, to make him act this way. The last girl RED had, he'd merely driven insane. The bloke before that? He just quit- couldn't stand the demented fellow for any longer. So something was different about this one. It was irrational. Her left leg looked a real mess, with a swollen red scar that was barely healed from the rays of the medigun, stretching from her ankle to her knee. I could've cringed at the thought- having your leg smashed, then cut open and sealed shut again. The girl may not find herself walking properly for a while, from the looks of it.

I sighed and straightened up, eyes following the drifting spook before me.

"Wot do ya reckon happened?"

He shook his head without looking at me. "I don't know. I don't care. 'E did it, and now ze bastard is gone."

I twisted my face. "Gone? You took 'im out?"

"I wish." He scolded the wall before him, pausing. "Our Scout seems to 'ave been ze 'hero'."

"Boy's probably throwin' 'imself a party upstehs."

"Hardly. 'E didn't seem too excited when I last saw 'im."

That's a shocker. The kid was so damn arrogant, even more so than our own Scout I might say, and I wouldn't have put it past him to never let anyone forget that he took down the infamous Sniper-hunting BLU Spy. Of course, after all this mess was cleared up, that very well may describe his behavior. The poor boy may even feel guilty that he hadn't gotten there sooner. It wasn't his fault though.

I glanced back up at my rival, trying to analyze his aimless pacing, the strong inhales he was sucking from his cigarette as he occasionally glanced at the occupied bed.

"Y'know mate, she was only upset when she came to my van. I couldn't upset 'er anymore, plus- wot in the bloody hell would ya expect me to do in that situation?"

The masked man looked at me viciously, but didn't speak. No doubt he had wanted to say something, but couldn't because he hadn't exactly been a one-bed-partner type of guy lately. He knew this, and I knew he knew this.

"I am aware of zat, bushman."

"I just thought I'd let ya know I didn't do it outta-"

"Yes. I understand."

He was irritated, but his voice softened just a tad, perhaps because he was worn out. We all were. Mostly, I was tired of fighting in general, for a few days anyway. That'll happen to you when you bust your ass to save everyone's life, when all the circumstances have changed and you barely have time to recognize it. The boys upstairs were drinking, mourning the loss of Demoman and the other Pyro. Most of the waiting line had departed, choosing to rest and visit her later. The only person who really missed the Spy was our Medic, who had formed a small friendship with the bloke, somehow. From what I could tell, they had been acquainted before their employment with Builders League United. Of course, he didn't really voice his disappointment since we all knew it was the spook who had done the most damage. Hell- I doubted the small mercenary before us had much opportunity to fight back, from how the Scout had described the sight anyway. He must have surprised her. We were all surprised.

"Mind if I have one a' those?"

Spy glanced up at me from between the fingers that covered his face in a pensive manner. A cigarette was hanging from his other fist, propped beneath his elbow. With a sigh, he approved my request by tossing the case to me. I momentarily eyed the buttons and display on the right side of the cigarette holder before pulling one out in the case I appeared suspicious. I threw it back, mumbling something about getting one of those. I was never one for lightening the mood, unless I was drunk. Suffice to say I was a happy little drunk.

As though he had read my mind regarding the alcohol, the spook spoke up.

"Would you be so kind as to get me a glass of Scrumpy? If Tavish hasn't consumed all of it…"

It wasn't an obligation of course, and the natural tendency towards hating Spies almost caused me to refuse, but looking at the girl's battered face again…

I was in the hallway momentarily, pulling a hand through my hair, wearily, as the empty basement echoed the click of my boots back to me. The sound of voices became clearer with each flight of steps ascended and I had to admit that I may have been too grumpy to deal with a group of belligerent grown men. I drank when the occasion called for it, but other than that, I saw it as nothing but a vice- as many people called it, a _temporary escape_. I gave into cigarettes far more often, but you wouldn't see me inhaling them minute by minute like Spy did.

My mother was a drunk in my younger days. Dad and I would look after her, watching somberly as she flailed about the kitchen, curses and giggles spilling from her mouth, hardly with discretion. It was an everyday thing: She would wake up, shove through the cupboards looking for a bottle of scotch before dousing herself into a liquid frenzy. Some nights she would end up on the floor, vomit dripping from the corner of her mouth. She wasn't proud of it. _I_ was proud of her though- she was sober for almost twenty years now. I was lucky to have a father who hadn't given up on her during those seven or eight years of uncomfortable experiences. I reckon that was why I turned out as odd as I was.

My home life wasn't exactly _normal_ when puberty struck, when the hormones filed in and my sense of self-security evaded me. I wasn't the most attractive of adolescents. My ears were bloody huge and the baby fat clung to my bones stubbornly. Therefore- I didn't have much confidence in myself and my father was too busy worrying over mum to help instill it into me. I had a sister, Violet, but she was almost a good decade younger, probably almost in her 30's by now, and we'd never gotten very close. I'd known how it felt to be alone years before I took on headhunting. When you don't handle it right, and when things just seem to keep going downhill, loneliness has a profound effect. That's what I'd seen in that girl lying in a hospital bed downstairs. I don't know anything about her childhood, but I knew from the look in her forest-green eyes while she stared at me in intoxication that night- that things had not been going too great at all for her.

I'd barely realized I had made it into the cafeteria before somebody smacked my back less than graciously.

"MAGGOT. WILL YOU BE ACCOMPANYING US TO EL PASO FOR LEAVE?" Jane boomed. "WE WILL _NOT_ BE ROOMING WITH ANY IMMIGRANTS, JUST LET ME MAKE THAT CLEAR."

I cocked an eyebrow at the last statement, but decided not to draw out a lecture from him. It wasn't like he wouldn't be rooming with foreigners anyway. He lived with them.

"Wot the hell's an El Paso?"

"GOOD GOD-"

Our Scout's drunken exclamations cut him off. "Hey, they got dis club, right? And the dames…they take their _shirts_ off! Betcha ain't got nuttin' like _dat_ in Australia!"

Jane glared vehemently at the boy for speaking over him, as I shrugged and picked up the bottle that sat before the Scout on the table. He began to protest before I shot a second glower down at him. I was not one to be bothered right now.

"An' who's gonna be stayin' with th'sheila?"

I counted seven heads in the cafeteria. This time, the RED Heavy piped up from across the room where he was accompanied by Tavish and the remaining Pyro. Things would have to change again after leave when we would no doubt renew our contracts, but for now, it was sorta nice to see everyone getting along alright.

"You think Spy will leave tiny Sniper alone?" He chuckled.

This was true. The man didn't show any signs of exiting the infirmary anytime soon. No doubt he would remain planted beside of her knowing no one else would be here. Still- it wouldn't hurt to have someone else around while he slept or left to shower or whatever it was he did. She could go into another seizure.

"You do not have to go, if you wish to stay with leetle woman."

Of course I _wanted_ to go. It was either go to Texas and live it up to an extent, or be stuck in this damaged base with no company besides the spook, an idle body, and whoever Mann Co. sent to assess and repair the damage to the base that none of us were going to fix ourselves. We wouldn't be getting another leave until the holidays. I sighed heavily, filling a glass with the foul-smelling liquor.

"Oi'll think about it, mate."

The Heavy nodded understandingly before I turned to exit.

When I reached the room outside of the infirmary, which was now empty, I walked cautiously to the double doors, peering nosily into the window. There he stood, arms braced against the side of the bed, back hunched. His face was almost dead-looking, void of expression. Poor wankah was beating himself up. No doubt he was experiencing mood swings due to lack of sleep and food. I knew prompting him to eat would do no good, though. If he were in his right mind he would have already voiced his knowledge of my presence, cockily.

I swung the door open before he could notice me and he never broke his stare from her face.

"Ya ain't gonna make 'er wake up by lookin' at 'er. Take it easy. Here."

I pushed the glass into his hand before he finally stepped back again, eyes still glued to her. He took a long drink, emptying half of what I'd poured him instantly.

The man exhaled loudly before breathing, "Merci."

I sat in the chair the Medic once occupied, resting the side of my head on my fist.

"I take it you're not leavin' with everyone else?"

He shook his head.

I shifted in my seat. "Oi can stay if ya want. Help keep an eye on-"

"Non." He muttered. "I want to be alone with her."

The reaction I expected. I rolled my eyes to myself at his stubborn attitude before I continued persistently.

"Look Spook, wot if somethin' happens to 'er and ya ain't got no one to help ya? I undastend how ya feel, but it couldn't hurt. I'd stay out of the room unless ya needed me."

He was irritating me again. The bastard always thought he was right and couldn't see anything reasonably- especially anything coming from me. To him I was just a dirty old bushman that was obsessed with pissing in jars, 'camping', and who lived in a van. Not to mention I'd shagged the lady he seemed to be _finally_ developing feelings for. I'm sure he didn't forget that bit.

He emptied the rest of his glass before setting it on the rolling cart beside the bed.

"Nothing will happen to 'er from now on."

I scoffed. "And that's wot we all thought bef-"

"_Nothing_-", he finally made eye contact with me, "-is going to happen. I can assure you of zis."

I rubbed my tired eyes, unable to think of anything to convince him otherwise. Then again, if the Medics both decided to leave town, I suppose it was settled that everything should be fine. I assumed they would let Spy know what to do in the case of an emergency. It's not like there was a vast knowledge of medicine between the spook and I anyway, one was more than likely just as good as two. I couldn't help but worry though.

The buzz of the bright lights above us were accented with the constant whirring of machinery as we sat in silence once more. The whole room was white- bleak, except for the blue stripe that ran parallel to the floor along the walls. The infirmary wasn't an exciting place. I'd always hated being in here, tried to avoid it whenever possible. The Spy was pacing again, watching the floor. Occasionally he would stop as though something in particular had struck him. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. It wasn't in my nature to pity grown men who moped around feeling sorry for themselves.

After an hour or so, I realized that she wasn't going to be waking up anytime soon, or that the spook was going to bother making small talk. I couldn't stand the clicking of those bloody shoes, anyway. I left, indifferently, telling him I'd be back after I slept for a bit. I tried to suggest he sleep too, but didn't expect him to respond- and he didn't.

Love works in mysterious ways, and from my experience, it wasn't always pretty. The girl had said she was in love with him, and I'd bet my Smissmiss bonus he felt the same way, even if he didn't know it yet. But that sight, those two- it wasn't pretty at all. I'd say I would wish them the best, but I wasn't so sure that was probable. Contracts were in question, along with the re-arrangement of team-members due to massive loss across the company. Maybe that's part of what was eating at the Spy. Or maybe he really was just the self-pitying, narcissistic, backstabbing crouton we'd all come to know- that my counterpart had _somehow_ come to love.

* * *

**See dat box down there? Dat box is for you to tell me how much you hate me/whisper sweet nothings to me. Next chapter isz lady sniper tiem.** **Pootis.**


	13. Chapter 13

**FINALLY. This chapter is really fluffy, so I apologize if you want to hurt me -cringes back-. **

**To the person who submitted the comment about werewolf Scout - I dunno aboot that and how well I could do with werewolf-themed characters. However, since Halloween's coming up and the end of this story is drawing near (-cringes again-), maybe a TF2 horror one-shot would be kinda fun. Tentaspy maybe? Serial killer in 2fort? hrrrmmm...  
**

**Anyway, back on topic: enjoy!  
**

* * *

Beeping.

Through my scattered and hazy mind- there was always that infernal beeping. First it was just a background noise. Then it was the payload cart, of which I didn't know if they actually beeped in person or not. This was the first I'd seen. Then it was the watch on the wrist of the BLU Sniper. He was wearing that stupid yellow rag on his head again. I told him to take it off but he merely laughed and told me to go push the cart. Where the hell did a cart come from? We never used these things.

After a while, when I had finally become somewhat lucid in my own subconscious, it was hard not to wonder if I were dead or stuck in a permanent slumber. I'd seen almost everyone who had grown close to me and further apart alike. Some of those I knew who had never interacted or met were casually strolling around, or participating in some ridiculous behavior that dreams seemed to materialize.

Then my vision was blurred, heavy, and my eyes sore. A dull pain pulsed on the side of my head and the beeps sounded so close now. What _was_ that? I blinked blearily, the throbbing in my head growing harsher by the second. There was an obnoxiously bright light above me, and the scent of cigarettes. Oh god, where was I now? My mouth tasted disgusting, the metallic bite of blood lingering in my throat.

I lifted my hand to rub my face, but grunted when the movement sent a dulled jolt of agony through my arm. Then it became apparent that my leg was throbbing as well. What _was_ this bullshit? I rolled my eyes around a few more times, struggling to awaken. So I had been dreaming the entire time. It came as no surprise when I recalled the ridiculous antics of my friends and family I had seen while unconscious. The beeping continued though, and then I recognized it finally as the sound of a heart monitor. Struggling to move my stiff neck, I looked to my left, eyes narrowed under the harsh lighting. There was the source of the sound, with a monitor that steadily captured the heart rate of-

_Wait_.

I sat up immediately, suddenly recalling the attack on the base, fearful of how long I had been out. My eyes searched the room frantically, but no one occupied the desk on the far side, or the chair beside of it. I was in the infirmary- the _BLU_ infirmary. The beeps became more desperate as I began to fear for my teammates, wondering where the hell they were, if they were even still alive. What if I was the only one left? What if they had taken me down here and forgotten about me, hadn't gotten to me in time before the robots- oh _god_.

My breathing was quickening and the monitor beside of me protested. Looking down, I examined in shock a huge swollen scar on my shin. _Fuck,_ it hurt. I attempted to lift it, but bit my lip and whimpered when I realized that I was almost completely immobile. And my head- I touched it lightly, relieved to see no traces of blood on my fingers. But I could feel the tender, swollen bruise on my cheekbone, just below my temple, and the uneven scar that had been left from impact. It also hurt a tad to clench my teeth- no doubt it was a fracture.

The spook.

Where was he? Was he still here, did he run away? Did someone catch him? My mind raced with thoughts, but before I could attempt to get off the bed in fear, my fingers brushed against something close to me, to my right.

I looked down, and the sight made my stomach drop, and my eyes widen.

The RED Spy sat in an armchair, arms folded across the bed, with his head resting face-down on his forearm. The deep rise and fall of his breathing led me to realize he was asleep. I didn't even know what to think- and I _didn't_ think for a few moments, but merely stared in astonishment. Attempting to comprehend the situation, my fingers hovered over his arm as I contemplated whether or not to wake him. Was he keeping surveillance over me or something? Perhaps they had been taking turns keeping watch.

It was…nice, though. Seeing him with his guard down, a normal human being enjoying a trifling slumber. A small part of me bristled in content at the possibility of him being down here of his own accord. But that was a silly thought- he was too proud. He liked to remain reserved and mysterious, giving no one reason to think that they were any more special in his mind. However, a girl could wish.

I sat there, hands folded in my lap as I watched him with a small smile on my face. The beeping on the other side of me ceased to a steady rhythm as my fears lessened for a moment. I was grateful that he was alive, that the ghastly beasts of machines hadn't torn him apart, had barely scathed him it seemed. That was one of my main distresses lately, of losing yet another person I had begun developing feelings for. Then, I stiffened as memories intruded my thoughts.

_Oh Pyro_. I looked back down to my hands, smile fading as I envisioned his masked face mournfully. I had completely forgotten. Have you ever felt that feeling, when you recall a happening that caused you so much pain- when you can actually _feel_ your heart aching? It almost feels like a hollowness, a sensation that grips your stomach and your chest and your throat. I had felt angry the moment that they had taken him from us. The rocket had cut straight to the ground only a few yards from his feet, as he tried so hard to escape, tried to run _so_ fast. And then the explosion clouded my vision and pulled the pin from the grenade for me. It turned the safety off in my mind. If I'd watched anymore of those I cared for die, I don't know what I would have done. I didn't feel as though there were a level of rage and hurt beyond that.

I tried to swallow but my throat was dry, and caught within itself as I struggled to hold back a whimper of anguish. Looking up at the ceiling, I let a few tears fall from my eyes, lips trembling. I'd taken so much from him, accepted all of his generosity and his altruism, selfishly. I didn't get the chance to return the kindness and it burned in my mind shamefully. I'd meant what I said- what I said to his…body. I had seen a flamethrower, a really, _really_ nice one in the Mann Co. catalog. Never spending my money very quickly at all, I could have paid for it. I could have at least done that for him. Something. Just one thing. But Gray Mann took that from me. Now I would never be able to pay back that kindness, ever. I bit my lip and sniffed quietly, tears still streaming in silence as a small sob fought its way from the back of my throat.

A sensation on my hand made my heart skip as I looked back down quickly. My wet eyes met the cool, blue orbs of Spy's. His face was a mask of calm worry as he straightened himself and squeezed my hand with his own. "Ma cher…you- you are awake."

I nodded and tried to say something, but didn't, knowing my voice would only come out in a pitiful, choked rasp. The sight of him- worried, holding my hand almost excitedly, and _alive_- made my bottom lip quiver again. How pathetic. His gaze swept over me before raising his other hand towards me hesitantly. I bowed my head, embarrassed of my tears before his thumb brushed beneath my eye, and then came down to lift my chin.

"It's not your fault." He murmured, trying to make me look at him.

I sniffed again before speaking in a broken voice. "I know. I just wish I could've...could've…"

As though he knew it were coming, he stood and wrapped his arms around me, careful to avoid hurting my sore arm. I sobbed. I cried, and cried and cried into inside of his arm, the uninjured side of my head resting against his broad chest. How unimpressive I must have looked- a battered and sobbing mercenary. But I couldn't help it, especially when his embrace was inviting me to go ahead and let it go. This was the result of anguish and bottled up emotions I had kept back. It was like the day Scout had found me on the balcony, only this time my tears were the outcome of an entirely different reason. I was so lucky to have comrades who didn't judge me for having feelings.

Neither of us said a word. I wore myself down, eventually reduced to quiet tears, puffy-eyed and sniffing. I was embarrassed. This man made it a point to never become too close to anyone, so seeing a piteously crying girl probably wasn't something he was used to, let alone could tolerate. But I remained there, fists curled over the soft material of his vest. He rested his chin on my head, arms holding me in place snugly. I'd never witness him behave so tenderly, to actually appear _loving. _But I liked it. I didn't want it to end.

"Ze others are out of town. They left yesterday."

I reached up and wiped one eye, sighing heavily. "_Everyone_?"

"Oui." His thumb lazily stroked my arm. "Well- except Scout. I'm not sure where he went- perhaps back to Boston."

"So… did everyone else…is everyone…"

"Alive?"

I nodded against him. My heart acted up again as I anticipated an answer.

"Mm." He pulled back a bit to look down at me. He made his voice as gentle as he was able. "Our Engineer didn't make it."

His hand pushed back the hair on the side of my head, gently, as I registered what he said sullenly. My lips twitched. I wanted to resume crying but was able to control myself. I had already left wet spots on his shirt.

"Anyone else?" It was barely a whisper.

He sighed heavily through his nostrils. For a second I swore his eye twitched. But he didn't seem menacing at all, merely agitated at something. I bit my lip and waited on him, unsure and afraid of what it was he wanted to say. His appearance was so worn and tired, but he wore it so well. I wanted to pull his balaclava off and see how beautiful he really was.

"Do you…" He paused again, blinking and looking at me earnestly. "Do you recall seeing ze BLU Spy at any point in battle ze other night?"

The BLU Spy. That brought back a glint of images from when he had attacked me. I remember him appearing mysteriously in the sewers, but other than that- had no recollection of seeing him on the battle field. As a matter of fact, I don't think I saw him when we were standing by the gate, waiting on the robots to reach us. Unless he was cloaked the entire time. I shook my head slowly, realizing he had a point. He merely made a grunting noise in the back of his throat in response.

"Neither did anyone else. If I'm not mistaken, he wasn't present until he attacked you."

Again, I sat in dumbfounded silence. What did this mean, exactly? He told me I had killed-

Dammit. I clenched my eyes shut and bowed my head. The child. He told me that the child I had killed was _his_. The mere thought made me feel sick to my stomach. Did anyone else on the base know by now? But then again- I wasn't even sure how he had come to this sudden information himself. And then my initial fear came crawling back. Where was he?

My eyes lifted to his face again, solemnly. What had I done? I murdered a child, ruined a marriage, and gotten somebody…somebody…

I sucked in air suddenly, my heart beginning to beat feverishly at the sudden thought in my mind. I quickly shot my hand to the tray beside the bed and, with a firm grip, pulled his revolver in front of me. My hands shook as I faced the end directly at his forehead. My shoulder was burning, as well as my leg while I twisted to face him fully. He had stepped back, eyes widening in surprise. The cigarette in his mouth fell slightly.

My voice rattled like my hand. "Who are you?"

"Ma cher, wha-"

My voice rose significantly. "Who a_re_ you?"

Then he seemed puzzled. I didn't relinquish my position as I stared at him steadfastly, finger on the trigger. I hadn't thought it through before. The fact that everyone else was gone, and I was handicapped temporarily, made the matter all the more urgent and tense. I'd acted out of genuine fear, and now adrenaline. His eyes never broke from mine.

"Zis is unnecessary. What if I fired a weapon?"

I thought about it, eyes flitting about the room occasionally. There were no other weapons in sight. We'd emptied the base of guns for the fight a few days ago, and none of mine were here. I narrowed my eyes. This room was too bright.

"You know I can't give you the only gun."

He closed his mouth, brows knitting together.

"Zen I have no idea what you want me to do."

I licked my lips, the traces of old blood irritating the back of my throat. I hadn't the slightest clue as to how a Spy could prove his loyalty, that wasn't my job. A part of me felt childish, but these measures had to be taken.

"Where's the BLU Spy then? What happened to him after he hit me?" I thrust the gun with emphasis. "And _don't_ even try to lie. You all aren't as subtle as you think."

The last part was a lie, but I had to exude some sort of assertiveness. The corner of his mouth pulled up, despite the situation.

"Is zat so, cherie?" He mused.

I didn't respond. He sighed and a frown took his smile's place once more. He lowered his hands from their defensive position.

"Scout shot him just as you went unconscious, or so that's how he described it. He said he didn't move and that 'the water was just blood'."

"So." I held back relief. "He's…dead?"

He nodded. I let this set in for a moment, the gun lowering just a tad. Dear God, what had I caused? I'd killed the child, and now her father. Even if it wasn't me who did it, I had been the source of it. Shame struck me and I shook my head slowly. I_ had_ heard the gunshot before I lost my hearing and eyesight. Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure I'd heard Scout calling for the Medic too. He was telling the truth. The BLU Spy was really dead.

Suddenly I felt truly nauseas, and goose bumps covered my skin. And before I could react and pull myself further from my thoughts, the Spy in front of me had gently but quickly removed the revolver from my grip. My eyes widened just a tad and my heart fluttered as my hand remained reached out. Of course that would happen to me.

He pulled his forearm up, pointing the fire-arm to the ceiling, and squeezed a shot off. The doves in the corner of the room fluttered their wings in protest. Splinters and bits of plaster showered the spot on the floor beside the man, and I held my hands over my head. I still watched him, and was relieved to see his color remain the same.

"You know Archimedes is going to tell him who did that." I said while he put the gun back on the table beside of us.

"Please. That fiend can't talk to birds."

"I don't know…"

I know I'd walked in more than once when the doctor seemed to be talking quite seriously with his avian friends. It was odd, of course, but the only thing more odd than that was the fact that he actually seemed to understand it somehow. Of course, I knew this observation even made _me_ seem crazy, so I didn't bother to elaborate on it.

It seemed like the Spy was more comfortable as he smiled peacefully to himself. I felt like for a moment after I had woken up, he was afraid I was going to tell him to leave. He was probably embarrassed now, knowing how he was. He would be back to himself in no time, making up for it with stern facial expressions and the occasional adjustment of his tie. I wanted to see him. I mean, he was standing right there, yeah. But what I mean is wanted to see his _face_. When you kiss and love and sleep with someone, seeing and knowing their face is sort of an expectation.

But I knew better. Looking down uncomfortably, he sat back in the chair beside of me, back straight but visibly exhausted. That's when I heard somebody outside yelling.

I tensed up and turned around in the direction of the sound.

"Who was-"

"Mann Co. sent some gentlemen over to take care of some of ze damage."

I thought this over and turned back to him, face reluctant.

"Don't we usually just. Y'know…_leave_ it?"

He chuckled briefly and shook his head. "We usually don't make that big of a mess. Things became considerably worse when they breached ze side of ze base."

"But no one-"

"-goes back there, oui."

He shrugged his shoulders. I suppose it was just us and a cleaning crew then.

* * *

The afternoon carried on in mostly small conversations between the man and I. I made him laugh once, and he let me hold and use his Dead Ringer- though of course it was mainly me cloaking myself while confined to the bed with sore limbs. Either way, it was nice to talk to him like we were actually two normal people. I asked him if he would help me outside so that I could be in the sunlight for a little while. It was a slow process, but he held most of my weight with my good arm slung around his shoulder. We made our way upstairs and out onto the balcony, met with the sight of our own base, receding behind the bridge.

I sat with my legs splayed in front of me, injured shin resting from the painful pressure of blood now pulsing through it. Apparently I didn't even have a bone down there now. I was part metal. It's like I became less human all the time. I sighed in relief after we had made it, and pulled a cigarette from my vest that Spy had carried for me.

He stood beside of me for a few minutes as we both smoked and stared at the scenery ahead of us. It was only when I patted the spot at his feet that he indifferently crouched down and took a seat next to me. He sat knees up, elbows resting lazily atop them. His cigarette burned idly between two relaxed fingers. He was so _tall_ compared to me.

"Thank you for staying." I finally got the nerve to mumble shyly beside of him.

He looked at me for a moment before turning again. "It's not a problem, cher."

I bit my lip and pulled my sunglasses over my unprotected eyes. This was suddenly awkward. I was never sure if it was me or him that caused it.

"I mean…" I tapped the ashes from my cigarette, "…didn't you want to get outta here for a while?"

"Yes and no. I'm always sick of this place, but I wanted to be here anyway."

I turned to him once more. "What do you mean you wanted to be here?"

His arched eyebrow twitched and his eyes scanned the equally blue sky for an answer. But he already knew it, and it was apparent he had trouble saying it. Finally, his head bowed and he crushed his cigarette on the wooden panels beside of him.

"I didn't want to leave you… like that."

I blinked a few times before looking to the spot on the ground he stared at. Not knowing if he meant my injuries, or my sanity, I prompted him to talk more. At the same time, my stomach fluttered at the thought.

"Like- messed up?" I murmured.

He inhaled deeply and looked up at me, regretfully. I waited for an answer as he watched me with his lips pursed, blue eyes exhausted.

I didn't react when his gloved hand reached over to stroke my jaw. Of course I noticed, and it left me speechless, but I continued to watch him. When I didn't object, he lightly held my chin between his fingers, and didn't stop the smile that gently stretched over his lips. I smiled back quietly, holding my hand up to cover his acceptingly.

"Petite." He stated quietly. "I am _truly_ sorry I 'urt you…with that Scout. I was only acting out of…defense if you will."

When I cocked an eyebrow questioningly, he laughed and shook his head, hand falling into my lap and clasping my own.

"A man of my profession is not used to having a beautiful woman around."

I narrowed my eyes accusingly. "Sounds like you know plenty of beautiful women at night, slick."

His eyes widened humorously before he smiled again, patting my knee. "My dear, you know not the horrendous personalities of the women I have bedded."

I snorted, rolling my eyes and looking back out to the bridge. Of course that would be the case, leave it to Spy. So in his own predictable way, he was saying he liked my personality I suppose. That was _something_, anyway. His hand was warm through the glove and I squeezed it gently, acknowledging his quiet affection.

"So…", he shifted beside of me, a mesmerizing grin striking his features, "I suppose you will want to eat soon, hm?"

He laced his other hand through my own.

"I-I suppose so." That smile always did something to me.

He seemed satisfied by my nervously tense response. "Well, ze Doctor has left some things for me to prepare, what if we just had something… _nice_- for once, yes?"

I didn't know if he meant something nice to eat, or something nice for _us_. Either way, I smiled stupidly and nodded, wiggling my fingers between his in a playful manner. I felt really dumb in a way, but then again, it had been a while since I had felt so exhilarated just from touching someone else. Just the feeling of his hands pressed against mine was so comforting and yet it felt like electricity should be flowing between us.

But that feeling kept biting in the back of my mind, and I decided that I needed to tell someone. Not Medic and his experiments, not Sniper who had an opinion biased very closely to my own- but someone I could just say it to. In that blissful moment, I acted out of need.

"You know… you know why he was after me?" I murmured, watching our fingers flex and caress one another.

His response was quiet. "I imagine you were the one who 'took' somezing?"

My heart fluttered and I slowly looked up at him, slightly bewildered. Wasn't that what the Sniper had said in the van a few days ago? Again I lowered my head shamefully and regretted bringing the subject up.

"I- _murdered_ his child. It wasn't supposed to happen."

There was a silence, of course, but I anticipated it. This wasn't really anything people expected of me. Hell, I didn't expect it of myself before it happened. I wondered if things would have been different had anyone known prior. At the time, it didn't really seem like anything I absolutely needed to let everyone know of.

What happened next was something I would have never expected him to do. I gazed at him in suppressed shock, but apparent awe when he freed his hands from mine and reached for his mask. My breath caught in my throat. Was he…?

His gloved fingers gripped and pulled the balaclava free from his angular face. My mouth was hanging open slightly and my eyes bedazzled as I gazed into the bare face of the one I had grown feelings for. His skin was incredibly smooth for a man his age. And his hair was so _beautiful_- brushed back and slightly flattened from constant use of his mask. It was a pale brown, lightened at the ends as though he had been in the sun often some time ago. I didn't know what to say to him, partially silenced in admiration. I lightly touched his exposed cheekbone, chiseled and set high. His response was merely a small smile.

"Why?" I continued to marvel. "Why did you do that?"

He gave me a knowing smirk, as though I should have known the answer myself.

"You told me one of your biggest secrets. So it's only fair I show you one of mine, non?"

I couldn't help but grin. That's not exactly how Spy's tended to work, from my past experience. However, if anything, I considered myself thankful. I don't know how many people had seen this face, but I knew no one on this base had. But my reveling was short-lived when he apologetically pulled the mask back on. Then there was that initial image of him, back again. The face that had roused such primal needs from me before, that still had that effect now, though muted- on the back burner if you will.

I just wanted to sit like this for the rest of the evening, gazing at one another with hazy smiles, fingers gently touching the face and hands opposite of us. It was as though we'd rediscovered each other. Those messy impressions from before seemed to disappear and there was just us, without the outfitted personalities.

Yet again I was disappointed. He stood on long legs, stretching his arms for a moment in the sun. He was going to prepare dinner.

I asked him kindly if he would help me to the showers so that I could at least rinse off while he cooked. I felt awful. I wanted to stay in bed, tired and in pain, but I was filthy too.

"And you're sure no one else is here?" This was the BLU base, after all.

"Oui. They all left." He was carrying me down the steps as the sky began to darken for the evening. "Well, there's ze workers, but they'll be leaving shortly. They have no reason to enter this side of the base anyway.

That was a relief. Actually, this was really nice- having the base to ourselves. Even if we didn't want to be near each other, it was as simple as rooming on each end. The BLU side was identical to ours, save for a few "interior" design flaws, if it could even be called that. Still- as I've mention before, it beats an old apartment or bunker to pieces.

When we finally made it, he helped to slowly remove my ruined pants (one of the Medics of course felt the need to cut them). It was almost embarrassing. I felt like an elderly woman, groaning and clenching my teeth every time something pressed too hard against my leg, or when my shoulder moved a certain way. He said he would hang one of his nicer robes inside the door, to save us the struggle of clothing me again. When we'd finally gotten the worst part over, he smiled teasingly before leaving me to shower alone. I damned my injuries while taking off the remainder of my clothing.

This may have been the best part of my week. If you've ever ran a few miles in the sun, or hiked through the pouring rain for hours, you realize what a blessing taking a shower is. Sore muscles, bruises, new scars- all pulsed mildly on my body as I pressed a forearm against the wall, hanging my head and closing my eyes. _So_ nice.

I couldn't be more thankful for the quiet, for the sheer normalcy. Explosions and arguments, sweat and blood and unpredictable men. That's what my life had become. Don't get me wrong- I wouldn't exchange it for anything. But there comes a point in every mercenary's life where they become tired, depending on who you're talking about. From that point on was the highlight of the career, the peak. Then came the tiredness of body and a yearning for a more structured lifestyle. That would hopefully come for me as early as this slump, this repetitiveness.

I allowed myself to think of my family again- briefly. It was like opening a locked cupboard, peeping in at its contents longingly. I remembered my mother's scarlet hair and my father's handsome eyes. I'd inherited those green peepers. My brother's were narrow and blue like mom's. I smiled at the thought of the round glasses he'd had to wear, shortly before I left. He was always so whiny and particular about things. They were too _stupid_, he'd said. Everything was stupid to a boy that age- or a Scout. They were so alike, the two of them.

_Scout_. The smile on my lips faltered as I thought of him sullenly. He'd actually killed someone. Not like this, not with a functioning respawn- he had actually ended someone's life. That was nothing to any experienced merc, but Scout was just any other kid, the type I didn't get to be, that loved baseball and had only worked summer jobs prior to this. He'd been cleared on the fact that he wasn't actually murdering anyone. The fact that I'd taken his daughter's life would more than likely make it worse on him. That was something that could wait, at least until the sickening feeling of murder faded. However, it was a pivotal moment for him. This was what had awaited him at some point, it always does. Now he was like the rest of us, I suppose.

The steam in the room had grown to a fog, and my damaged leg began to throb from high blood pressure. I was forced, to my irritation, to end the shower after some twenty minutes. After toweling off, I sat down carefully on one of the benches to soothe the scar on my shin. I had only sat there for a minute with my eyes closed painfully when a certain loud, and unsettling _bang_ from just outside the base caused me to jump in alarm.

That was a gunshot. A revolver.

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**CLIFFHANGERS, CLIFFHANGERS EVERYWHERE. **


	14. Chapter 14

**SORRY, SORRY, SORRY. That was a long time between updates for me, so I sat and had a day with this and put it on here as soon as I finished, so I hope my poor editing doesn't show here. I wanted to get it to you as soon as possible. **

**Okay, so it's Halloween time right now, sooo this chapter is a little inspired by it. I tried to make something suspenseful, goiz. 2spooky!  
**

**My disclaimer is that I don't own Team Fortress 2, even though that'd be cool.  
**

**Oh hey, and come see me on dA! Info now on my profile. :3  
**

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The pain was unbearable as I hurried from the bench, limping as quickly as my body would allow. Nearly slipping, I stepped over my clothes in a hurry and grabbed the robe Spy had hung on the door as promised. I tied it over me hastily, then opened the door and continued my panicked limping down the hallway.

"_Spy?_" I called down the dark passage. The lights had been turned out. The sun had just set and the windows cast an ever-darkening blue glow over the base as I struggled, flipping light switches as I saw them. The power was off. The moon had not yet risen and the sky was traced with remnants of the remaining sunlight. My breathing was jagged as I attempted to ignore the burning in my leg.

When I reached the end of the hallway, I was standing in the kitchen area. The smell of burning food filled my nostrils. I made my way to the stove and quickly shut off the gas, then turned to observe the room anxiously. Holding my breath, I listened for any movement. There was not a sound- inside the kitchen _or_ coming from outside. That was most definitely a gunshot. Sure, I know I appeared crazy at times, but I knew the sound of a firearm all too well.

"Spy?" I repeated again, still not yeilding any answer. Each silent moment built more anxiety in me, and my movements became more frantic.

The gunshot had come from outside. If there indeed were a threat, I had no weapons to defend myself. It didn't matter though; there was no use in sitting idly in the base. I hurried past the blue kitchen and the familiar den, hoping all the exits were in the right place. If I wasn't mistaken, there should have been a carport outside this section of the base, identical to the one Engineer had brought me to after he picked me up at the airport. Hand sliding along the wall for support, I approached the foyer and made my way through, glancing out the glass panes of the exit. Nothing but the dark corners of the wooden port. I still heard nothing.

By this point I was almost gasping, partly out of desperation, and partly from enduring the pain that coursed through my entire leg now. I stood outside, wild-eyed, but there was no one around. It was hard to tell whether or not calling out for anyone was safe. What the _fuck _was happening? Where was he? I could sound as strong to myself as I wanted, but to be completely honest- I was having a hard time containing the images and assumptions in my head. A small woman in a shower robe without her weapons doesn't make for a very intimidating target. I could only hope the gunshot was- well, I don't even know. For once, I had no conclusions.

Nearly chewing a hole through my lip as I endured the sharp pangs, I stepped off the threshold and made my way around the carport wall. Thankfully, all of the workers were gone. I squinted, scanning the area for any movement, anything out of place. Something was obviously wrong. The time it took me to get out of the shower room and down the hallway was enough for him to exit at the sound of the shot. He had probably taken off to see what was happening. But this was the direction I heard it come from, through the shower wall, and I saw nothing.

I limped around for a few more moments, heart thudding, confusion clouding my thoughts. I rounded the other side of the carport, and then- I heard shuffling. Then a grunt.

Hopeful, I sped up my pace towards the sound. "Spy is that you?"

"_Snipes_?"

A small whimper of surprise and happiness emitted from my throat as I almost broke out into a jog. It was Scout. Thank God.

"Scout!?" I called in the direction of his voice. "Scout, what are you-"

But I stopped as soon as he was in my line of sight. My face fell at what I beheld. I clutched the top of the silk robe over my chest, frozen. He lay on the ground, propped on his elbows with his bat lying beside of him. Holding his shirt and breathing vehemently through his nostrils, he tried to sit up straight, groaning. He'd been shot.

I hurried over and helped support him, as much as I could.

"Who the hell _shot_ you?"

"The spook. He- _OW!- _he was disguised as one of the clean-up guys. I think he ran outta ammo though cause he dropped his gun." He pointed to the ground a few yards away.

I grimaced. "I thought he was-"

"Dead, yeah I know. Everyone did. He must've used that fucking Ringer thing. "

Goosebumps crawled over my skin as I realized that the BLU must have been on the base this entire time. Where was _my_ Spy? I looked behind me every so often, wary of the enemy who was no doubt cloaked somewhere amongst us.

"Can you get up?" I lowered my voice.

He nodded and grunted as I helped him up. He stood with one arm limp. I picked up the revolver.

"Where's our Spy?"

I shook my head and took a look in the chamber of the gun. One bullet. Stuffing it into my robe, he put his good arm around me to help me walk. "I don't know, I was in the shower when I heard the shot and he was gone."

He muttered something under his breath about spooks cowering around in the shadows as we made our way as quickly as possible to the carport.

"What are you doing, I thought you took leave?"

"I did", he opened the door and hurried me inside. "I just…my Ma and I aren't getting' along so well, an' I just- changed my mind. I thought I'd come wait around for you to wake up."

I smiled, but it was bittersweet. "I'm sure you wish you'd stayed now."

He scoffed before closing the door behind us. That's when we both became suddenly wary of the dark, and ducked our heads, scanning the dim foyer. He let go of me and stood a few feet behind, bat readied in his good arm. Luckily we were the smallest of the team, so being quiet wasn't an issue. It more than likely didn't matter though- our prowler had the element of surprise on his side. He could be anywhere. He was probably the _only_ class trained to be even sneakier than us.

We wandered around in the dark for a few more minutes, pausing and listening. This was some sort of sick joke; we were both injured, against a more seasoned opponent- not to mention our half was nowhere to be found. Did he leave? Was he looking for him? Was he…?

Dead?

Determined, I crossed the cafeteria, with Scout close behind. We entered the hallway opposite the den and made our way towards the docking bay, where Mann Co. dropped off monthly shipments.

"The lights are down… the frog's playin' the horror card." Scout mocked, but I could hear the subtle tremor of anxiety that laced his voice as he chuckled hesitantly.

I didn't respond, not wishing to make ourselves even more obvious. I worked my way along the wall down the dark hallway. The remaining remnants of light from the sunken sun were beginning to diminish through the windows. Soon, we would be almost completely blind. When we reached our destination, I began to feel around each weapons locker. Scout stayed positioned behind me, occasionally prodding the air in the case that the spook might attempt to sneak up on one of us. There were no spare weapons anywhere, only small boxes of ammunition and unclaimed personal shipments.

What little noise we made echoed in the immense room. I checked every crate, every shelf, but remained without a weapon of any sort. I stood with Scout in the far corner, leaning on a crate and grinding my teeth in mixed anxiety and frustration. My heart was pounding.

When I looked up, I noticed an oversized medical cabinet glinting opposite us. It most likely consisted of only spare supplies and possibly ammunition. However, we didn't have many other places to look. I walked past Scout, still listening for any movement and dragging my leg like a wounded animal. Reaching forward, I gripped the metal handle and twisted it down, flinching at the keening grind it emitted.

As soon as the door was unlocked, it swung open of its own accord and I found myself tumbling under the weight of something _really_ heavy. I fell flat on my back and all the air in my lungs left swiftly.

"Oh _shit_." Scout stated ominously above me.

Wheezing for breath, I glanced down at whatever had knocked me over.

"Oh- CHRIST!"

I sat up and scrambled backwards after realizing it was a _body_ that had fallen out of the cabinet. A man in a uniform- the worker. This must have been the Spy's disguise. Poor soul. Knowing that spook, the experience probably hadn't been pleasant.

Gathering and tightening my robe, I kicked the heavy corpse off with my good leg.

Scout was visibly agitated from sudden fright and pain. "Don't fucking kick him!"

"_Him_?" I twisted my face, getting up. "For the love of God Scout- are you a mercenary or what?"

I was past the boy again, walking out of the bay, shaken from the experience. The guy needed to learn to let go of the inevitable. I heard him falter in following, more than likely pouting as usual. I didn't have the time or mindset for this.

"So were you a mercenary out there when the Pyro went down?"

I stopped momentarily, my shoulders tensing, lips pursing. Right _now_?

I turned and thrust a finger into his face, eyes wild with anger. "_Don't_."

He merely continued to frown, eyeing me disapprovingly before I turned to leave once more. Wrath stirred in me, a mentality threatening to wake up. However, the fear conquered it into submission and I was beginning to sweat. A clock ticked somewhere, taunting and abrupt as we moved back to the cafeteria. I found that it was hard to shake the lingering feeling of a cold, damp cadaver pressed against your body. Violation to an unnerving extent.

We stood next to the television after making it back, and scanned the room carefully. The air was too still, the small traces of light too pure- waiting to be broken.

"_Spy_." I whispered.

No one responded as Scout looked from me to the rest of the room anxiously, bat poised behind him in one hand.

"What do we do?"

I shook my head. "I'm open to ideas."

"Not much room for ideas-", he swung the bat around listlessly, "-when the fuck's prolly been with us the whole time."

I sighed through my nose and racked my mind for a clue. This murder mystery gag was almost getting too painful to handle. I didn't take kindly to being targeted like an animal, unless I was getting paid. And this was a ceasefire. Something had to give.

"Let's see if we can get the lights back on." The boy suggested.

I nodded and grabbed a knife from the counter before we resumed our creeping, this time towards the basement. It was better to leave the spook fewer shadows to hide in. I felt like a fool- like a child playing hide and go seek. Only it just so happened the person hiding was a walking death-threat.

The walls crawled with shadows as the moon had finally risen. Soft light poured through the windows, glinting off doorknobs and losing the battle against the shade around us. Every open room we passed, filled with black, was threatening- and questioning. The stillness in the base was unnerving. Our footsteps and quiet but ragged breathing were the only sounds. I looked behind me at Scout, examining his bullet-wound only briefly. The bleeding had become less alarming, but I could tell his face was slacken from blood-loss. He stood strong, though.

"You sure you don't need the medi-gun or something? We can stop by the infirmary."

He shook his head. Not until we knew where the spook was. Nowhere was safe.

I turned around again, holding the long knife in a readied position as I moved. We approached one of the entrances to the basement- a silhouette made of nothing but darkness at the end of the hallway. A stench emitted from it and my frowned deepened as we stood on the landing, gazing down.

I murmured, "What is that smell?"

"Basement got flooded." He rested against the doorframe. "The robots blew a fuckin' hole through one of the walls in the sewer."

Great.

I wondered if it was wise to maneuver in the dark, but if we could just get those lights on…

I slowly lowered myself onto the first step, eyes scanning the shadows for any movement. When I saw nothing, I continued downwards.

That's when I heard a wet sound behind me. Scout made an odd grunting noise & I turned to scold him. Too noisy. But when I was facing him, I sucked in air and had to brace myself onto the handrail. My heart pounded. I'd turned just in time to watch as he crumbled to the floor at the top of the steps. His throat was cut ear-to-ear and blood poured from the fatal wound.

"_Scout_!" I cried out, lunging forward.

But as soon as I had reached the landing, the door slammed directly onto my face, no doubt fracturing my nose. I yelped and fell backwards, stopping myself from tumbling down the steps. My kitchen knife went flying down into the water below me. My leg- I'd landed on it, and the pain was _unbearable_. Gasping and groaning as I pulled myself back up, I tried to drag myself back up to the doorway. I could hear something through the door. Leaning closer, I recognized it as shuffling feet. Every once in a while, there was a curse from the Frenchman. Someone was _fighting_ him. Scout was no doubt already dead, so-

_Spy_! There were two voices I realized. The harder I listened, the more familiar his voice became. I tried the door to no avail, and immediately began to pound my fists against the barrier.

"LET ME OUT! SPY!" I bellowed into the wood, but the fight only sounded worse now.

If my leg were any better, I might be able to kick through the doorway. I banged against the surface with the palms of my hands, screaming through the door insistently. They weren't paying attention to me at all.

My heart raced and I could feel my head getting light through all the pain, fear and confusion. Turning, I ambled down the stairs as quickly as I could. I couldn't help but cringe when I felt the water hit my bare foot at the bottom. There was an emergency exit- a ladder- that led upstairs, into one of the respawn rooms.

After feeling around deftly, I made my way past the jagged hole blown into the back wall, to the ladder. It was extremely painful, but I made my way up into the room above. It was as dark as the basement with no lights, but I found the exit in here, too. Throwing the door open, I stood in the hallway. I didn't make a move, just listened for the two fighting men. There wasn't a sound.

I struggled to soften my breathing. Moving forward slowly, I readied myself as much as possible to round the corner ahead, into the cafeteria. I swatted my hand behind me every few steps, in the case he was behind me. I couldn't call out my own Spy's name in the case that he hadn't…won. I think I was crying now- I couldn't tell, I was too focused on so many things at once.

When I reached the corner, I took my time in looking out past it. At first I merely viewed a sliver of the cafeteria, inching forward only as I confirmed nothing was there. Then, my gaze slid over a body- a spy. The problem was that I couldn't tell what color he was through the darkness. Both wore only their vests the last time I'd seen them. I held my breath and waited. Waited for what, I wasn't sure. Perhaps an invisible hand to grab me- strike me?

When nothing of that sort happened, I allowed myself to creep over to whoever was on the floor. I approached quietly, crouching slightly. After tightening my robe, I held my hands out toward him cautiously. My fingers hovered over his shirt sleeve. Then, I pressed down, rolling him over. After stepping back a little warily, I saw that he was still dead, or unconscious. Attempting to swallow nervously, I found that my throat was too dry.

There was one way I could tell. I reached to his mask, sliding my fingers beneath his opened collar. I waited another moment and pulled up. The face I saw was familiar- no, it was definitely his. The same one I had witnessed earlier today. His lip was busted but I saw no other wounds.

As suddenly as I had pulled up the mask, someone grabbed both of my arms and pulled me back. Violently, I was thrown onto the ground face-first. But I didn't go down without a fight. I kicked my good leg and snarled, attempting to wriggle free of his grasp. I heard him chuckling above me, his grip only becoming more painful. I threw my head back and felt his teeth. He growled and I knew I had busted something- however he never let go.

I hovered above the ground for a few more moments during my struggle, before he threw me down forcefully. I hit the floor with agonizing force, busting my chin in the process.

"Oh, just stop. You couldn't outrun me in this state."

He stood over me as I lie there, exhausted. He was right. There was no way I'd make it out of the base, even if I struck him down right now. I heaved against the cold ground, blood oozing from my mouth lightly. I think he'd busted out one of my teeth when he dropped me. He'd taken all three of us down in the course of an hour. He'd done it with such cruelty, using darkness and fear and worry as weapons. I felt helpless at that point. Nothing was stopping him.

"Is he dead?" I muttered below him.

I heard him crouching, and frowned when I felt him pulling me up.

"Ah cher, non. He's merely unconscious."

He rested me against a crate, too gently for someone who had been slinging me around moments ago. I glared up at him as he straightened my hair and fixed my robe to cover me more.

"No, it wasn't my intention to kill him, or you", he continued, "I need you both awake though!"

He stood and strode over to his unconscious RED, maskless counterpart. In the process he lit a cigarette and continued talking. He was definitely in a better mood, but with him I couldn't really define that as a good thing. I kept an eye on him. I noticed the deadringer lying on a the windowsill beside of him.

"I got to thinking over the last couple of days- what if I just do zis in a more fair way? You would like zat, wouldn't you? Fair?"

I didn't respond to him, but continued to watch him puff on his cigarette, standing over the unconscious man. He was smiling, such a charming smile, but full of hate. His skin was too pale, his eyes too dark with contempt. I couldn't even identify him as human, but it was something I definitely recognized. This is what I had looked like for years.

He chuckled at my lack of response and crouched over Spy. He propped him up much in the same way he had with me, and that's when I realized the RED's hands were bound by his own tie. The silk was pulled tightly around his wrists- no way he would break it. My eyes shot back up to the still-concealed face of our captor, searching him for some other emotion- or intention.

He spoke again. "I want him to be awake for zis though, as I said." He swatted a gloved hand at the man's face. "Come on now, wake up!"

When he smacked him, I tensed defensively. I watched the unmasked man, though. It was only better we were both functioning, right? After a few moments, his eyes twitched and his breathing changed.

"Yes, zat's it. You shouldn't be taking naps while in someone else's base!"

I spoke too. "Come on Spy, please. Wake up."

He stirred, and after a moment, his head rose slightly as he gained awareness. After blinking at me for bit, he finally looked up at his counterpart. Hate seethed into his features as unconsciousness wore off of him.

"Aw, that's adorable. You two really seem to like each other, huh?" He looked between the two of us as though he were actually interested. We glanced at one another. He spoke up after a moment.

"What are you doing?"

"Maybe even love one another?" The BLU ignored him.

I looked up at his masked face. The phony kindness was wearing off of him as I glimpsed that condescending, eerie smirk. His opposite was watching him as well. No answer was yielded. An uneasiness made its way into the pit of my stomach. He may have been acting calmly, but he was no different than the man he was in that sewer.

When someone longs for something, or mourns it in his case, you can start to see the lust for blood in his eyes, his smile. This was no man playing innocent games. However, he _was_ toying with us.

He stepped behind the RED and I felt myself lean forward instinctually. No.

"What are you doing?" I asked, almost a whisper, repeating my teammate's question.

The BLU didn't respond, but merely smiled from behind his counterpart, adjusting his own tie. His intentions dawned on me, but I don't think the RED understood what was going on. He hadn't known the severity of the connection long enough to piece together what was going on. Desperately, I began to try and get up.

"Non."

I stopped when he pulled a revolver out and pointed it directly at my head. I felt around my robe. He'd taken it off of me. It was an accurate shot. Lowering the gun almost as soon as I lowered myself back onto the ground, he placed a hand on the RED Spy's shoulder.

"I just wanted zis to be fair. Didn't I say that?"

My heart was fluttering as I watched him, a begging look in my eyes. "Please. Don't."

I think that's when the RED figured out what was going on. His eyes widened only slightly as he stared at me. There was hint of sadness in there. He didn't know what to say, though.

The BLU shook his head and shrugged. "It's only fair that you know how I feel."

His grip on his opposite's shoulder tightened, as did his grip on the revolver. I felt my eyes well up before he raised the arm wielding the gun. All was quiet in that moment as I searched his eyes for one last sliver of humanity. _Something_. Please. For the love of God. For some interruption, someone to come in and shoot him, again.

He brought his arm down hard and struck the subdued Spy in the head with the heel of the revolver. He didn't strike to knock him unconscious though. I reached forward helplessly as he fell sideways, pain searing in his eyes. The man didn't relent. He stepped over him and pulled him up again by his collar, not so gently this time. He hit him again, busting his nose. Blood spewed from Spy's nose and over his mouth. I cried out desperately this time, moving forward a little. The BLU held his gun at me again and I was forced to back up once more.

He dropped the man and with his freed hand, grabbed the knife from his pocket, clicking it open menacingly.

"Please! _Stop_, please!" I begged.

He slashed his cheek, then his neck, but not deep enough to kill him. The assailant's back was to me has he crouched over him, holding him by the jaw. I could try to attack him, but I didn't, knowing that he would know immediately if I closed in on him. I sat there, hopeless, and began to cry. This was my fault. Scout was dead and Spy was dying, because of me. I should have never come out of hiding in Spain. I should have never taken up Sniping. I should have never touched a gun. I put my hands over my eyes and sobbed childishly as his pained cries echoed in the cafeteria. It was so awful to listen to, the choked shouts. The grunts of pain. The sounds of the knife's safety clinging against the handle as he did his work on him, whatever I couldn't see. I couldn't bear to watch it.

"Please." I tried to say repeatedly through my wet crying. "This isn't fair at all, you're just _torturing_ him!"

No respawn, no second chance, these people would be gone forever. Hell, I would probably be gone before the hour ended. I cradled my forehead in my hands. He didn't respond as more strangled cries issued from his opposite.

I looked up again and shrunk back as I realized blood had begun to spill into the drain. He had beaten and cut him nearly to death. How he had kept him alive, I didn't even know. I lowered my sight to the floor, still whimpering and tearing up pathetically. The sounds of brutal punches and coughing rattled through me.

Something caught my attention in the corner of my vision. Surprised, I turn my head. My face dropped and my crying ceased for a moment. Appalled, I could do nothing but gape at the sight next to me. It was- how did…

The RED Scout put a finger to his lips. He was unscathed.

Before I could think or react any further, he had backed into the shadows to my left, hugging the wall almost professionally. I could no longer see him. However, my sudden lack of crying caught the attention of the BLU Spy before me. I looked back to him as he turned his head. Blood was on his face now and I sunk back further, if even possible. The RED below him was still gasping for air. The sound broke my heart.

"What's the matter?" He asked condescendingly.

He was honestly waiting for an answer. I stared back at him, unsure of what to do. He turned toward me a little more, his wrist on his knee, bloodied knife hanging from his fingers.

"Come on, now."

"I… I want-" I stammered, improvising, "…I want you to know I'm not sorry."

His expression fell. I had struck a chord- whether I was being truthful or not wasn't the point. He stood and turned to face me completely.

"Excusez-moi?" He breathed harshly.

"Don't care. It happened, but you know, it didn't put a dent in my day, I gotta say."

Fury settled into his face as he stepped toward me. I held my arms over myself, shielding my bloodied face. He crouched over me once again, and pulled my arms apart by the wrists. I struggled again, pressing my back against the boxes behind me.

"You're lying." He spat in my face.

Raising my eyes to his again, I frowned. "Yeah. I am."

Before he even had the chance to respond, two wrapped hands emitted from the shadows behind him, clutching his head. Then, in one swift movement, the boy had twisted his neck with such force- it snapped. The Spy's body fell beside of me and I looked up to my savior- for the second time.

The Scout looked down at the BLU, inspecting his handiwork. The only noise now was the Spy behind him, still making struggling sounds of pain.

"Scout-" I spoke as he helped me up, "-how did you-? What are you doing here, I saw you-"

Then it hit me. But he spoke before I could. "Respawn's back up."

Of course. But if he had respawned, that meant…

I began to move in a panic, but the Scout grabbed my good shoulder before I could begin to make my way towards the BLU Respawn.

"Nah, nah- don't. I got it taken care of."

I turned to him and merely stared, unsure of what he meant. The Spy had to be re-materializing at this very moment.

"I got it locked up," He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. "The doc left 'em right by the door. He ain't gettin' out, I don't care how tricky he is."

Impressed, I raised my eyebrows. So, we were fine after all. The sounds of the dying Spy beside of us caught my attention and I lowered myself to his level. Blood spewed from a cut in his forehead, and also his nose. One of his eyes was already swollen. His shirt was cut up and stained in his own blood. As bad as he looked, I tried to sound positive.

"Hear that, spook? You're gonna be alright."

He struggled to look at me. But he managed a somewhat light-hearted tone. "Kill me, please."

I didn't know if smiling was appropriate, but I did. "Is there a way you prefer?"

I regretted my words, as they made him laugh and he began choking immediately afterward. Oops.

Scout stepped towards us. "Uhh, I got respawned with this-"

Reaching back, I took the gun before he finished and held the pistol to Spy's head. After I had pulled the trigger and gotten it done, I handed it back to Scout, who stood with his face twisted slightly.

"You all always gotta be assholes when you're handlin' dead people?"

I stood, allowing the Spy's body to merely slide off onto the ground. This made his look of distaste even greater.

"What'd I say to you earlier, Scout?" I turned to him. "Are you a mercenary, or what?"

I knew this was contradictory to my crying earlier, but I couldn't help but be pleased by his irritated face. It might have been too early for jokes, but I was merely thankful that no one had to die after all. I'm sure he was too.

* * *

**Review, maybe? T-T I love when you guys talk to me. Oh, and there's two chapters left.**


	15. Chapter 15

**SORRY. (again)**

* * *

"Scout, where'd you learn to snap a neck like that?"

The boy stood next to the BLU Sniper, resting casually against the desk in the corner of the room. He had that proud look on his face again when he registered my question.

His thumb jerked toward Soldier. "Helmet-head."

We all stood in the BLU infirmary, around a monitor the Medic rolled in here a few minutes ago. All of us were here, save for the few we'd lost a while back.

"The boy needed to learn something besides running away, like the FRENCH!" The patriot stated solidly which elicited a sigh from beside of me.

The opposing Scout snorted from across the room while our own frowned disapprovingly. I was thankful that everyone was able to make lighthearted conversation again. The less we thought of the attack, the better everything felt. I actually couldn't wait for us all to split up again and fight like we were supposed to. Normalcy was welcome now- although I wouldn't categorize us as the most "normal" group of mercenaries.

Everyone else had gotten back from leave last night, which was a few days after the BLU Spy had stalked and almost murdered the three of us. It turns out no one had really sobered up after returning from El Paso. Our little group had passed out watching "Hillbillys in a Haunted House", which was pretty terrible as far as I remember. We were awakened after Tavish had busted an empty bottle of Scrumpy against the side of the base, mistaking a wooden beam for the Lochness Monster. Well, not _everyone_ was drunk- one Medic was sober anyway.

While they were gone, we kept the BLU Spy locked in his own Respawn room, offering him food only once, which didn't prove worth it. I'd went to check what was taking Spy so long, and found them both rolling around and strangling one another. Not to mention the night he tried to escape through a vent- which failed miserably when he fell through and landed on top of Scout outside the infirmary.

I'd approached the BLU yesterday, yearning for the chance to apologize without the fear of dying. It went better than I expected, but not as well as I had hoped. Of course, I could never blame him for his hostility- he would probably be locked up in a max-security prison for life somewhere and it was all my fault. The BLU Engineer explained to me that capital punishment was abolished in New Mexico, so that was relieving. Sending him into a gas chamber would most likely be the last straw for my conscience. I felt better after speaking to him, though. Much better.

* * *

The BLU side of the base was beginning to feel like home, I realized, as I made my way towards one of the respawn rooms. I knew Spy was probably back there somewhere, invisible and keeping an eye on me, though I insisted it wasn't necessary. If he killed me I'd just wind up back on the other side of the base. I didn't care though- all I could think about was everything I wanted to say to the BLU whose life I'd mistakenly ruined.

When I reached the door, I couldn't help but feel like the hallway had gotten colder. All was silent, save for the soft buzzing of the lights above. I eyed the door, unsure if I should go in or not. Would he even listen to anything I said? It didn't matter- I needed this opportunity for my own peace of mind.

I heard something shift, then a familiar voice emitting from the other side of the locked door.

"What?"

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Did he know it was me? I turned and slid down the stone wall beside the doorframe, taking off my hat and resting my elbows on my knees. I inhaled deeply before speaking. I may as well just be completely honest.

"I…I don't know what to say, Spy." My voice was low but I knew he could hear me- that was a part of his occupation.

For a moment, he didn't speak and I considered just leaving if he wasn't going to say anything to me. However, as I was about to lift myself off the ground, he spoke.

"I don't care anymore."

This surprised me, and again I found myself at a loss for words. All I could do was tuck my head between my knees painfully. What can you really say to someone who lost all they found precious? I'd always suffered through the guilt, but nothing hurt worse than enduring this talk as though it were even my place to initiate it. I had nightmares about this moment.

"Why?" I almost whispered.

"I've done all I could to make it feel right, but I don't believe it ever will."

A lump formed in my throat. This time I did whisper.

"I am so…so sorry for what I've done to you. I know words won't ever make you forgive me, but I have nothing else."

His tone was flat, lifeless. "Why would you want my forgiveness?"

I thought this over. A question I'd never really considered- I didn't think about it, I just _did_ it.

"Because I just…", I sighed, shaking my head,"…I don't know what else will make this pain go away."

This time, I heard him shift beyond the wall behind me, but he didn't respond immediately. I waited, lifting my head. Tears were beginning to roll down my cheeks as I looked towards the door. Again I whispered: "I'm sorry."

What I heard next shocked me, and rendered me unable to say anything as the lump in my throat tightened.

I heard the man sob. Softly.

The tears began to pour uncontrollably, but I refrained from whimpering as I crawled over to sit in front of the door. I was a monster.

I gently pressed my hands against the bottom of the door, wishing he would say something else. _Anything_. I just wanted to hear something that would force away these nightmares, would exterminate the dark personality that slept in me. I wanted him to be happy, because it's what he deserved, it's how he was before I stole it away- for what? To try and murder a man I didn't know, for money _from_ a man I didn't know? The time I spent here was like a dream, but I'll never forget the man who knew how to manipulate the part of me I wasn't even acquainted with. The man who just wanted to avenge his little girl, who he would never take to school, whose piano recitals he would never attend, whom he would never get to watch graduate and blossom into a young woman.

Then an image surfaced within my mind. My father.

My father whom had always been there when my mother wasn't. When Mom wasn't busy, she was disappointed in me. But Daddy- Daddy was always there. He was always at my soccer games, and never stopped smiling. I was never his disappointment- he would _always_ love me, even as a killer- and I'm not sure he would be the same if he knew I were dead.

I couldn't take it. Sobs slowly began to shake my shoulders as I rested my forehead against the door shamefully. I had taken so much for granted- I'd given up my family for money and glory and tricked myself into thinking I was just doing it because I was meant to. I had lost control of my life and wrecked someone else's.

"It was a pleasure working with you, cher." He said gently.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I bit my lip before speaking,

"Yeah. You too."

I could take a hint but a part of me didn't want to leave until everything was better. This was too final. Nothing would ever be normal, though. I knew this.

I sat there for what felt like forever, just facing the door solemnly, eyes still streaming pathetically. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the face I found beautiful with or without his mask- that gentle and loving look that I'd only seen once or twice. He reached down and took my chin softly, tilting my face toward him.

"You've beaten yourself up quite enough, I think. Come on now."

I'm still not sure if he understood the whole situation, but I was incredibly grateful that he didn't ask questions. I stood slowly, accepting his outstretched hand. He was such a gentleman- something I was never used to. He wrapped a long arm around my shoulders and we walked away from the man who had made me realize what was wrong with my life. I took something valuable of his, and he gave me something back. I would never forget him- I couldn't.

* * *

Medic had finally established a connection to headquarters. We were all chattering amongst ourselves when he shushed us, gesturing to the screen we all surrounded. He fiddled with a speaker before a woman's face appeared. She was aged and seemed stern from the second I laid eyes on her. This must have been the Administrator- which was confirmed the moment she began speaking.

"Hello Doctor." She stated uninterestedly.

"Hello Helen." He responded in an equally flat tone.

I felt the room become tense- this woman must not play around. She didn't really scare me, though. I wasn't fearless but some woman in a suit that likes to strike the fear of God into people annoyed me if anything. I didn't like her the moment I saw her face. She just looked like an old, grumpy, potential lung-cancer patient to me.

"I see you're missing some of your team. I'm assuming that was the robots' doing."

"Yes ma'am, we lost a few men during the battle I'm afraid."

We watched her light a cigarette before she spoke. "Not to worry, we'll find replacements easily enough. Now, what's this I'm hearing about- a little quarrel amongst your men?"

The doctor acted as though he were going to turn around, but he changed his mind. His eyes were cast down now.

"I believe a couple of our members are…somewhat acquainted in a way. I apologize for our Spy's behavior. It seems he's not well."

I turned to look at the BLU Spy, who we'd tied to a chair in the corner of the room. I insisted it wasn't necessary, that I personally thought he wasn't going to harm us anymore, but his RED counterpart and the BLU Sniper wouldn't have it. He sat there, head bowed as though he were completely oblivious to everyone- soaked into his own thoughts.

"Hmm yes. I spoke to him before communication was cut off. He seemed upset." She exhaled carelessly. "Anyhow, just send him here through respawn tomorrow, and we'll take care of it."

Take care of it? I looked over to Scout, who shrugged.

"As you wish, Helen."

It seemed as though he wanted to cut the call as quickly as possible, but she spoke up before he could do so.

"Oh, and Doctor?"

"Hmmm?"

My stomach sank slightly when she pointed a bony finger in my direction through the monitor.

"Send her as well."

Everyone turned and looked at me. I didn't like the expressions on their faces. However, I stood my ground and gazed back at her, frozen and choosing not to say anything.

"Uh…yes. She'll be there." The Medic's face was questioning and tinged with worry when he glanced in my direction.

With that, she ended the call without so much as a goodbye. I didn't understand. What could I possibly have to face her for? I looked to my left at Spy, who shook his head as if to say I had nothing to worry about. I could tell, though- I could tell he wasn't sure himself. I suppose all I could do was wait and see what the problem was.

* * *

The sky was astounding tonight. Stars sprayed across the sky, shimmering and joyous. Shadows coated the rocky hills around the base, fell from each tower and silo gracefully across the ground bellow me. I sat out on roof of the red base, a bottle of bourbon by my side. The opposing Pyro brought it back from Texas, though I think he'd taken it from Tavish. To be honest, I had to go back to my room and let a few tears out because all I could think of was the night Pyro had offered me my own bottle of blush wine. The pain wasn't so severe now, but our losses still stung each of us every now and then.

I enjoyed the New Mexican air on nights like these, as chilly as it got at times. I had to admit I had some goosebumps here and there. The alcohol buzzed through me, warming my chest and face as I leaned back, legs splayed before me childishly. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, enjoying the sensation, trying my hardest to push Helen to the back of my mind. It was hard not to think about it, or the poor BLU who awaited his fate somewhere in the building across from me. Hopefully I would be able to talk her into taking it easy on him. He didn't deserve anything too harsh.

I was still leaning back and enjoying the night when I heard the familiar click of boots somewhere behind me. Opening my eyes again, I looked back and smiled up at the BLU Sniper who approached me with his own bottle of liquor. We didn't say anything upon his arrival but we didn't need to. One thing I found interesting about the man was when we were around one another, we didn't always need to communicate openly- locking eyes momentarily seemed to get the message across. It was an odd characteristic, but I appreciated there being someone around who seemed to understand me easily, and I think he felt the same. This little oddity helped us maneuver as we needed to during the fight.

I sat back up and took another sip from the bottle to my side.

"So", I spoke as I lowered the bourbon, "What was all that about earlier?"

He shrugged and thought for a moment. "Far as I know, none of us have been asked to see her directly. 'Cept the poor sheila the spook drove mad- I don't even think her presence was welcome up there. They never believed the bloke was that bad off."

I thought on it for a moment, realizing there were quite a few things I did that were against the rules. I slept with not only a member of RED, but BLU as well. I organized a mass drinking party, in which both teams fraternized with one another. But- wouldn't she request their presence as well? Surely I wouldn't be the only one held liable.

He nudged me with his elbow, breaking me from my thoughts.

"No matter what she says or does, you're gonna be alright. We're all here for you, regardless of our uniform."

There it was again. I cracked a smile, appreciative and slightly trembling. For once, I really believed it too. I had enough evidence by now to know that just because we were all killers, didn't mean we weren't capable of feeling. I wished Mom could understand it like I do now.

"I owe a lot to you." My smile widened. "If I come back, I'll buy us all a round in the next town."

He scoffed quietly. "And I'll put a round in ya head, special 'welcome home' gift."

I couldn't help but laugh. His especially light mood was comforting. We sat and talked about an array of things, from the robots, to guns, the company, and eventually our soon-to-be renewed contracts. If I had a say in it, I was making plans to stay on the base, seeing as I still hadn't been working here very long. I'd save some money and when I was ready and free to go, I'd try and head back to North America, assuming they had stopped their search for me and declared the case cold. I couldn't go now, though- I was too paranoid. Not only that, but there was a small part of me that longed to stay here, around people who had something in common with me. I'd probably never admit that out loud, but it was the truth.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked him, regarding his own contract.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know. Thought about headin' back to Adelaide. I still haven't decided, though."

I nodded understandingly- I recalled the photo of him with a boy that I found in his van. We were silent for a few moments before I drew my knees to my chest and spoke. "I think you should." Not that it was my business.

He looked at me, not expecting my opinion. "You think?"

I nodded before looking down at my feet solemnly. "If you have any family, you're probably like me and wished you never left in the first place. You probably feel like it might not be a good idea to go back now, after so many years."

I looked up to see he was still watching me before I continued. "But I'm older now, and I messed up- I can't go back, it more than likely would change nothing. But, a father-", the look I gave him was almost desperate, "-a father at his age will always be welcome. He's too young to know how to be bitter, so you should be there for him before that changes."

There was more I wanted to say, but I knew him enough not to pry too far into his business. I kicked myself when he did nothing but look down at the bottle in his hand, then back at the base ahead of us. Perhaps I'd treaded too far into unwelcome waters. I looked back down and didn't say a word, offering him silence.

"You're right."

I looked back up. He sat with a quietly solemn expression, eyes never moving from whatever he stared at ahead. I studied his face, but already knew it was almost impossible to read him- almost as unreadable as Spy. I found that the spook wore a blank expression because it was his job to never give anything away, but Sniper- it was just his personality. I respected him though, probably the most of all the other men on the base. He didn't demand it, but that made him all the easier to admire.

The night was silent, save for the sound of running water somewhere close by. After he didn't say anything for a while, I grew worried over what thoughts were running through his head. He sipped his beer without a word, and it was as though I'd disappeared. Silently, I raised a hand and rested it on his shoulder. He turned his head and gave me a small smile, reassuring me that he was alright. Then he held his bottle toward me. Grinning back, I gave it a tap with my own, causing a quiet _clink._

"Cheers." We said in unison before seeing who could empty their drink first. I'm not sure who did and I don't believe he paid attention either. In conclusion, I launched my bottle at the ground below us with an obnoxious shatter, which caused the man to chuckle.

"You do it." I suggested.

"Sheila-", he leaned back, an amused expression on his face,"-why would I litter the ground I walk on with glass?"

"You don't walk down there."

"Yeah I do."

"You shouldn't."

With that, he narrowed his eyes and actually bared a few teeth when he grinned. "You got a point I s'ppose."

The man leaned forward on his knees, his face in a shadow of thought. He had his hat off and I'd never noticed how well-kempt his hair was. Not as beautiful as Spy's though.

Suddenly, Sniper chucked a bottle at the ground and a satisfied smile returned to his lips. He got it- as in he understood I why I did it.

"Y'mad?"

I blinked thoughtfully for a moment. Then I shook my head and searched for the cigarette I had tucked in my vest. They were scarce and the spook lent me one every now and then. Clicking the lighter open, I lit the cigarette silently.

It's not that I was mad. I just had a strange feeling about tomorrow, about speaking to the Administrator. I had a lot of bad feelings throughout my life, but I could tell which were genuine and which were only half thought-out. This meeting would be no good. The man to my right continued to watch me as I pondered my own instincts.

"You look a lot like me at that age, when you think like that. You feel like you have it figured out sometimes, but really, you're only trying to find yourself, mate."

"My purpose."

He nodded, pleased with my answer.

Smiling only half-heartedly, I scoffed a little. He was right- it took me a while to realize it, but I over-thought the process of almost everything.

"Just remember- never rely on _anyone_."

Slowly, I returned my gaze to his. It took a few moments to register it, but I suddenly realized he somehow knew about my past plight. He was insinuating that my missing the designated target is what landed me here in the first place. I was relying on RED to keep me safe, and alive while I agreed to test their weapons for them. I didn't know what to say past that. His sudden shrewd piece of advice had me at a loss for words.

He stood up and placed his hat on my head.

"You're a good kid, Reid. I don't much care for people, but I wouldn't mind runnin' into you again, later down the line."

I grinned appreciatively, pushing the hat up by the brim to watch him leave. "I'll see you sooner than you hope."

I heard a deep chuckle before he disappeared around the corner of the doorway. I was left with crickets and a full moon. I took in every detail of the buildings and towers and silos that surrounded me. I'd been atop almost every one since I joined. Smiling, I recalled hiding in the corners of the BLU base, picking people off from odd angles and positions. No one ever expects a Sniper's camp to be facing it's own base. It helped to keep the BLUs away from the entrance.

I'd never experienced such a …_fun_ job- especially in a not-so-fun line of work. I didn't find murder enjoyable, but the attitudes of each man I worked with and killed alike made everything easier. Things were always lighthearted, and hatred left behind every corner- never to interfere with our jobs or our personal time.

"Yo."

Nearly startled, I turned to see Scout now hovering in the doorway.

"Hey kid." I smiled.

He returned the smile. "Me and some of the fellas are playing a few rounds of poker. Wanna join before Tavish pukes on the deck like he did last time?"

I decided I would have to cast that dreadful woman from my mind as soon as I saw Scout's face. Even if I was overthinking it- I'd still like to savor tonight for all it was worth.

"OHHH _NOOOOO!_" I heard Heavy bellow from somewhere further back in the base.

"Yeah, Spy's cheatin', so you'll have to bring your A-game, or bat your eyelashes, or whatever it is you do with that spook."

He approached me and extended his hand. I looked below me once more to see my BLU opposite heading back across the bridge to his own home. Then I accepted the Scout's offer and he hoisted me from the wooden floor.

"And what did Heavy bet?"

I followed behind him and heard him snicker when another roar emerged from the den.

"Natascha."

Eyes wide, I couldn't help but grin ear-to-ear. A French curse shot through the base and there were some shuffling feet nearby.

"We might have to do a little damage-control before we start the next game."

"Ya think?"

* * *

**Final chapter is next!**


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